


Marked

by Blue_Five



Series: Scars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Werewolf AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Five/pseuds/Blue_Five
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is damaged goods that no pack wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean absently rubbed at his left arm.  It was the rain – it always made him ache and his left arm was the worst.  His younger brother Sam glanced over at him with a frown.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You've been rubbing your arm all day ... you ok?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked down at his hand like he was surprised to find it there.  He quickly turned back to his laptop.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Sammy.  Just tired of the rain.”

Dean knew from his brother's frustrated exhale that he wasn't buying Dean's excuse but for once he didn't push the matter.  Dean would take his victories where he could.  After another few minutes of searching, Dean got up to use the head.  He walked briskly up the stairs, slowing his stride once he was out of Sam's view.  In the bathroom, Dean opened the medicine cabinet over the sink.  He pulled out a small prescription bottle and dumped out two pills.  He was beginning to need them more often as of late and that was concerning. Still, Dean couldn't complain about them right now.  The ache in his arm had migrated to the rest of his frame and was poised to explode into full-blown agony. 

Throwing them into his mouth, Dean washed the pills down with a handful of water and then splashed a little more on his face where he'd begun to sweat lightly.  He flushed the toilet, put the bottle back and splashed a little more water before opening the door.  He jerked back, startled to see Bobby Singer standing in the hallway.

“How bad?”

Dean winced.  “It'll pass, Bobby.”

Bobby's eyes took on a slightly yellow cast.  “Don't lie to me, boy.  How bad?”  His voice was a low growl.

Dean ducked his head.  Technically, Bobby wasn't his Alpha, but he'd all but raised Sam and Dean; they submitted to him.  Dean looked up and the pain was etched clearly on his face.  “Think I put it off too long this time, Bobby ...”

“Balls,” Bobby snapped.  “I knew you were feelin' it ... why the hell you do this to yourself ...”

Dean wobbled as the world suddenly spun with sick pain.  “Bobby can we maybe discuss this later ... I sure as fuck don't feel good right now...”

Bobby caught Dean when his legs buckled and the young man crumpled.  He easily scooped up Dean's weight and carried him into the bedroom he and Sam had shared most of their lives.  Laying Dean out on his bed, Bobby pulled off his boots and jeans, leaving Dean in a tshirt and his boxers.  For what was coming, Dean needed to have as little restriction on his movements as possible.  Bobby sighed and pulled up a chair to the bedside.  He tilted his head to the side when he heard a board creak behind him.

“You just gonna stand there, Sam?” Bobby asked softly.

Sam opened his mouth to reply when suddenly Dean groaned in pain and curled up on his side.  Sam was kicking off his shoes and sliding into the bed behind his brother, pulling him into the curve of his body.  Dean's whimpers became louder and Sam smoothed his brother's sweat damp hair back while murmuring softly to him.

“ ... hurts Sammy ... “ Dean gasped, his eyes clenched shut.  “ ... please ... gods I can't take this ... “

Bobby sighed.  Dean's condition had been generally manageable all his life, but as his 30th birthday approached, the seizures and pain had worsened and no one seemed to know why.  As if the horrific incident that had left him crippled this way hadn't been enough, now it was getting worse.  Bobby watched Sam soothe his brother as he had done since he was old enough to understand.  The boys' father, John Winchester, had tried but Sam was best at it.  For whatever reason, his voice could reach Dean when the pain got to be unbearable.

Dean let out a scream and his body shook violently.  Bobby watched miserably as Sam wrapped one of his long legs around Dean's to keep him from thrashing.  It would take the meds longer to kick in since Dean had waited so long – Bobby stood to go make a pot of coffee. It would be a long night for both of them. 

Sam held Dean tightly and continued to talk gently to him.  He pressed a kiss to his brother's hair when Dean's whimpers became sobs of pain.

“... please, Sammy ... just shoot me ... just kill me and end it ... please ... _please_ ...” Dean begged.

“Not today, big brother.  Ask me again next time, k?” Sam whispered in reply.  It was the same answer he gave every time and it got the same curses growled at him between gasps of pain and sobs.  “Yeah, I know, Dean ... you got stuck with a real fucker of a little brother ... sucks to be you.” Sam smiled faintly. 

“ ... sorry ... sorry ... don't ... Sammy ... ” Dean's tearful apologies always followed his heated threats.  Sam just held Dean through the worst of the convulsions and finally, the seizure began to release his brother from its grip.

“Hey ... looks like this one wasn't too bad ... shhh ... it's ok ...” Sam murmured as Dean's muscles began to relax.  The release triggered the real flood of tears and Sam held Dean through that as well. 

By the time Dean slipped into an exhausted sleep, it was nearly two hours from the time he'd come upstairs.  Sam sat up on the bed with Dean curled up under an afghan beside him.  He sipped at the coffee Bobby had brought and grimaced at the bite it had.  Bobby chuckled at his expression.

“Little somethin' extra ... you need your sleep too, kiddo.” Bobby said, sipping his own spiked coffee.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Sam said.  “This one hit him fast ... “

Bobby nodded.  “Yeah, I know ... your brother is a hardheaded fool who isn't gonna listen to me _or_ you about not ignorin' the signs.”

“Bobby ... they're coming outside the full-moon phases ... it's going to get worse.” Sam said, staring at the ceiling.

Bobby nodded tiredly and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “I'll call Ellen tomorrow ... see if she knows anyone.  Get some rest, Sam.”

Sam nodded, putting the mug on the nightstand.  Bobby closed the door to their room.  He knew full-well that the next stage in these attacks was always the nightmares – Sam wasn't getting any rest tonight.

* * *

The next morning, Sam rolled over the wrong way and promptly tumbled to the floor with a curse.  Sam could hear Dean chuckling from above on the bed.  Lying on his back, Sam raised his arm up and flipped Dean off.  Dean chuckled again but it faded into a soft groan.  Sam sat up quickly.

Dean was moving like he was a hundred instead of twenty-nine.  Sam could practically count the visible knots in Dean's calves.  He reached over and grabbed the liniment.

“No, Sam, I don't – geez!” Dean growled as a charley horse in his leg sent him flopping back against the mattress.

“Yeah, whatever ... hold still,” Sam ordered.

With his strong hands, Sam quickly began to massage the muscles in Dean's legs.  As he worked out the knots, Sam's sensitive fingertips drifted over a web of hairfine scars that crisscrossed Dean's skin.  The scars were the obvious visible reminder of the incident that had left Dean wounded in this way.  Any other scar would disappear when Dean shifted to his wolf ... these scars would never go away.  They marked him everywhere but his face and labeled him damaged goods. Few packs wanted someone tainted – nevermind he'd been a boy and it hadn't been his fault.

“You're thinkin' awful loud, Sammy.” Dean said tiredly. 

Sam didn't respond and Dean pushed himself up on his elbows to look at his little brother.  He knew as well as anyone the burden he laid on Sam.  It only made him more determined to get Sam accepted with a good pack so he could leave his broken older brother behind.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

_He wakes up and the first thing that hits him is an awful smell.  It’s metallic and sour and it makes him sneeze.  Then it just makes him feel sick to his stomach._

_He’s in a wire cage like the kind they keep puppies in at the pet shop.  It’s just big enough for him to raise up a little in but he can’t sit up all the way.  He tries to reach through to get at the lock but the openings in the wire are too small even for his little hands.  He kicks at the door and it dents a little.  He’s scared but he decides to keep kicking at it.  A woman comes after he kicks a second time._

_Her scent is strange -- he doesn't like it but he wants to go home.  "Help me,” he yells.  “Let me out of here!”_

_“Look at that … doggy can talk,” she says with a sneer._

_That confuses him, but what she does next terrifies him.  She jabs a rod through the wire into his side and he screams when the worst pain he’s ever felt goes through him.  He’s crying when she pulls the rod out.  He can taste blood where he bit his own tongue.  He doesn't understand why she did that -- why she called him a doggy.  He's not a dog -- he's a wolf.  His daddy is a big wolf ... he wishes he was with his daddy right now._

_“Gonna behave, mutt?” the woman asks._

_He's mad at her for hurting him and putting him in this stupid cage.  He snarls and snaps at her when she puts her face close to the door of the cage.  He knows that's rude and he's not supposed to act like that, but he doesn't care.  She isn't nice and he wants her to know he doesn't like her.  He sees the rod coming through the wire again and tries to block it with his sneakers but she gets it past him and jabs him in the leg.  He wets himself it hurts so bad.  He tries not to cry – his daddy wouldn’t want him crying like a baby – but it’s hard not to … he’s really scared._

_“Little mutts need to learn to mind … gonna behave now?” the woman asks again._

_He doesn’t move or answer her and this seems to satisfy her.  She leaves and he cries softly to himself.  He wants his daddy.  He wants to go home and he wishes he hadn't walked off to look at the comics after his daddy said not to -- he's scared his daddy isn't going to come get him._

_“Daddy … I’m sorry … please don't leave me here ...“_

* * *

“Dean, would you shut the hell up?  I’m _not going_!” Sam snarled.

“Damn it, Sam … there isn’t a reason for you to stay here – you need to go while the gettin’ is good!”  Dean snapped.  He ran his hand over his face in frustration.  “Sammy … you have a full-ride to Stanford … you can get that law degree, make something of yourself.  Why the hell would you want to stay here with me?”

Sam gave Dean an incredulous look.  “Gee, I don’t know, Dean … maybe because you’re _my brother_?  Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?  Your seizures are getting _worse_ , Dean – we need to find out why.  We need to figure out how to stop this.”

Dean sighed.  He rolled back under the Impala in an attempt to end the discussion, but Sam wasn’t having it.  He grabbed Dean’s leg and jerked him back out.  Dean sprang up with a warning growl.  Sam met him and they stood chest to chest, lips curled into snarls.  Their eyes had taken on the yellow glow indicating the wolf was close to the surface.  When Sam narrowed his eyes, Dean took the challenge and they both shifted. 

Dean’s stouter tawny wolf slammed into Sam’s slender dark brown wolf and immediately the brothers were jockeying for position.  Evenly matched because Sam’s size was balanced by Dean’s speed,  Dean managed to pin Sam quickly but was thrown off just as fast.  They continued twisting one on the other growing more and more savage in their bites.  It was inevitable that one was going to cause real damage.

Sam let out a yelp when Dean bit down on his hind leg and there was a snap.  Dean released him immediately and scrambled backwards, whining.  Sam stood favoring the leg and licking at it miserably.  Dean crept up to Sam on his belly, his posture submissive and apologetic.  Sam shook his head and Dean whined again, lifting his head to expose his throat.  Sam hung his head and then bumped Dean’s jaw with his muzzle and a short nip.  It was an acknowledgement of his dominance, but a reluctant one.

The formality aside, Dean went back to being the older brother.  He threw his head back and howled, calling Bobby out.  The older man walked around the corner and growled when he saw two full-grown wolves hunkered together with one of them obviously hurt.

“You idjits,” Bobby snapped.  He laughed at the body language Dean and Sam displayed.  If wolves could blush, he figured both of them would have been bright red.  “Yeah, yeah … let me look.”

Sam’s injury would heal shortly since he was in wolf form, but it wasn’t a good thing that Dean had lost that much control.  Sibling weres rarely injured each other deliberately – Dean’s obvious remorse told Bobby he was well-aware of what he’d done and what it meant.  Dean lay with his muzzle between his paws a fair distance away while Bobby examined Sam’s leg.  The break was clean.  Bobby simply moved the bones into place while Sam whined and the young wolf’s metabolism began to do the rest.  The wound healed neatly and Bobby felt along the bone one last time before declaring it healed.

“Go on you two – get inside and shift back.  We need to talk.” Bobby said.

Dean and Sam went back to the house.  Sam shifted back first, returning to human form smoothly.  Dean shifted a moment later and released a soft gasp when he did so – shifting was extremely painful for Dean.  Sam knew he’d been truly angry for him to have bothered out in the salvage yard.

Bobby waited downstairs in the living room until the brothers loped down the stairs in jeans and t shirts.  They each took up seats on either end of the couch and waited for their dressing down.  Bobby pulled his cap off and smoothed back his graying hair.  He looked at Dean.

“I made an appointment with the Novak pack’s healer, Pamela,” Bobby said.

Dean closed his eyes.  “Damn it, Bobby, why?”

“ _Because_ , Dean … you’re family and I’ll be damned if I’m goin’ to let you suffer any longer!” Bobby said tiredly.

Dean snorted.  “I’m not ‘suffering’, Bobby … you know why I have the seizures and you know there isn’t anything that can be done about it – just let it go.”

“No, Dean!”  Sam shouted, unfolding from the couch to stand over his brother.  “No!  _Dad_ decided there wasn’t anything to be done about it … maybe there is – maybe this Pamela will know a cure or a treatment or – or something!”  Sam ran his hands through his long hair.  “Fuck you, Dean!  Why won’t you even _try_?!”

Dean gave a frustrated sigh.  “If I do this … and when it doesn’t work … will you drop it once and for all?  Just drop it and go on with your life, Sammy?”

Sam stared at Dean.  “Why are you so hell-bent on disregarding yourself, Dean?  It’s not your fault – “

Dean stood.  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Sammy.  I fucked up … I wandered away from Dad and I got grabbed – nobody’s fault but mine.  If I’d stayed with Dad none of this would have happened and you wouldn’t be trying to fix something that can’t be fixed!”

Dean pushed past them both and went back to work on the Impala.  His dark expression did not invite anyone to follow him.  Bobby growled and slammed his fist down on his desk, denting the wood.  He looked at Sam sadly.

“All this time and it never occurred to me that boy thought it was his own damn fault he got taken … ” Bobby said.

Sam sank back down to the couch.  “I’m not leaving until we know how to fix it, Bobby.  I’m not.”

“Yeah, I hear ya, kid --- but Dean might be right.  It might be something no one can fix.” Bobby replied.

“Then I’m not leaving, period.  Or Dean’s coming with me – but I’m not going to throw him aside like yesterday’s paper, Bobby.”

“None of us will, Sam.  _He_ may not believe it, but none of us are ever going to give up on him.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

_He lies on the wire floor of his cage with his back to the door.  He’s naked now and cold.  He doesn’t really notice either condition because he’s hurting.  He can’t even cry he hurts so much._

_The woman came back and pulled him out of his cage after jabbing him with the rod.  She drags him into another room that smells like rusty pennies.  He hasn’t eaten since he was put in the cage and the shock left him dizzy.  He tries to fight when they take off his clothes but that just gets him shocked again.  A big man holds him down while they strap him to a hard table.  He tries to be brave but he can’t stop shaking._

_Another man comes to him and that scent terrifies him worse than the lady.  The man is human but doesn’t smell … right.  He smells like something dead … something very, very wrong.  The man is tall and thin with eyes that burn.  The man has a thick beard and he leans close to talk – his breath is sour._

_“You are an abomination to the Lord … your kind must be purged.  The Lord came to me and told me I must cleanse the demon from you.  If you are worthy, you will live and be human again.”_

_The first cut burns like fire._

_It’s a silver blade – his daddy showed him once what silver could do to a were and how he had to be careful._

_The second cut is like acid._

_The cuts that follow are nothing short of Hell._

_When they put him back into the cage he tries to shift because when he’s a wolf he heals fast.  He’s barely finished when the woman pushes the rod into his side and keeps it there until he shifts back.  He tries again after she leaves and a man comes this time and forces him to turn back._

_The cuts bleed for a long time because the silver keeps them from healing properly.  He can’t talk but he prays in his head._

_“Please don’t leave me here, Daddy … I’m sorry … I’m sorry …”_

* * *

Pamela Barnes has been a member of the Novak pack for several years.  When her mate died, they took her in – she serves in a healer’s capacity.  She has a human medical degree with a specialization in were-medicine. Were injuries are generally not fatal these days but there are still territorial disputes that can become violent.  Over the years, her skills have expanded to include the emotional and mental well-being of her patients.

Looking at the file before her, Pamela feels her blood run cold.  Dean Winchester.  His medical files are deliberately vague but Pamela realizes she’s seen these types of injuries before.  Hairline cuts over the majority of his torso that have scarred.  According to the one x-ray she can find, the damage is all the way to the bone in some places.  The only thing that can scar a werewolf is silver.  Pamela can only imagine what sort of pain Dean lives with on a daily basis.  She goes into the exam room expecting to see a crippled young man – and has to school her features quickly to hide the shock at seeing a strong, healthy, rather good-looking man sitting on the table looking angry and annoyed.

Holding out her hand, Pamela introduces herself.  “Dean, I’m Doctor Barnes – you’re here to discuss seizures?”

Dean shakes her hand perfunctorily and jerks his thumb at the tall man standing next to him.  “Talk to gigantor – he’s the one who dragged me in here.”

The tall young man looks annoyed but smiles at Pamela.  “I’m his brother Sam.  And he’s been having seizures most of his life – but lately they’re getting worse.”

“Any pain associated with them, Dean?” Pamela asks.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Dean replies.

“Dean!” Sam exclaims.

“Dean … I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.”

Dean glares at Sam and crosses his arms over his chest.  “Fine – yeah, they hurt.  It’s not a big deal.”

Pamela glances down at her file again.  “Your usage of the pain-killers prescribed by your primary doctor has gone up – considerably.  Now, either you’re experiencing more pain more often or you’re addicted.  The former we can look for a solution – the latter I have to recommend a drug-dependency program.”

Sam bites the inside of his mouth to keep from smirking and Dean levels a glare at the doctor.  She returns his gaze steadily until Dean finally huffs and turns away.  He growls under his breath.

“Didn’t catch that, dear.”

Dean growls again but says, “It’s been getting worse over the past five months.”

Sam blinks.  “ _Five_ months?”

Dean doesn’t respond and Pamela gives Sam a light headshake.  “Alright – tell me what ‘worse’ means.”

Dean’s shoulders slump and he rubs his forehead for a minute.  “Used to be about as bad as a migraine … now … closer to having my arm torn off.”

Dean doesn’t look up because he knows Sam is giving him one of those worried/sad/pissed off looks he hates.  He stares down at the tile pattern on the floor.  He doesn’t care what Doctor Barnes thinks.  It’s just the way things are – but if she can give him a new prescription to take the edge off then maybe he can get Sam to leave for college instead of trying to stay behind and look after his poor, invalid brother.

“Dean … tell me about how you got these injuries,” Pamela asks. 

“What difference does that make?” Dean asks with a frown.

“Humor me,” Pamela replies.

Dean’s eyes narrow.  “Fucker with a silver blade cut me and about twenty-four other kiddos.”  Dean meets her eyes directly and she sees sparks in the hazel-eyed gaze.

“And the other children?”

“What about ‘em?”

“Have you spoken to any of the other children who endured this … tragedy?” Pamela asks.

Dean snorts in derision.  ”It wasn’t a _tragedy_ , lady.  It was an asshole who thought he was on a mission from God.  And no – I haven’t talked to any others because they’re all _dead_.  Which you probably know since the fucking story was on pretty much headline material for about three months after they found me.”

Pamela nods and makes a notation in her file.  She doesn’t press Dean for any more details because she knows he’ll only close up on her.  She orders a battery of tests to confirm her findings and refills Dean’s pain-killer prescription.  After Sam and Dean leave her office, Pamela sits down at her desk and stares at Dean’s file.  She pulls out another file and places it next to the Winchester file.  She hesitates only briefly before making a phone call.

“Balthazar?  Yes, it’s Pamela.  Come by the office – I think you need to see something.”

* * *

_He wakes up to the sound of crying and then of the woman’s voice talking to someone.  He freezes, afraid he did something wrong, but then he hears a high-pitched scream and realizes there’s a new kid.  A new kid who is learning not to do anything that’ll make them use the rod.  The woman laughs and he hears her leaving.  The faint sound of crying reaches him and he puts his hands over his ears so he won’t hear it.  He can’t do anything for the kid so he doesn’t want to think about him or her.  Eventually it gets quiet and he shifts to try and find a better position to lay in – there isn’t one but he moves around anyway._

_A soft voice drifts through the room.  “H-hello?  Is someone there?”_

_He freezes.  He doesn’t want them to hear.  He doesn’t want them to think he’s doing anything wrong.  He doesn’t think he can take the rod again right now.  The voice speaks again and he thinks it’s a boy._

_“Please … I’m scared … is anyone else here?”_

_He doesn’t reply and then he curls in tight on himself when he hears the door open.  He hears a frantic scrambling in a cage nearby and then the boy begging.  He hears the scream when the rod makes contact and then whoever came in leaves again and it’s quiet.  Soft hiccups are the only sound he hears from the other cage.  He knows how hard it is to be quiet when all you want to do is cry.  He doesn’t want to say anything but then he thinks of Sammy.  Sammy is little – only two.  It was his job to watch out for Sammy and take care of him.  He can’t do that now – he was stupid and got put here and now Sammy doesn’t have anyone to look out for him.  He thinks he’d do anything to keep Sammy from getting hurt if they were here together.  He wonders if the boy in the other cage has anyone to look out for him.  He thinks that maybe since he failed Sammy … maybe he can make up for it and help this boy.  Even if all he can do is talk to him._

_Swallowing hard he shifts so his voice will go out into the room.  He breathes out his words hoping the other boy is a were too.  If he is, he’ll hear the words and maybe the humans won’t._

_“My name is Dean.”_

_There isn’t a response and Dean thinks the other boy is too scared to answer.  He hears the shifting sound again and then a reply drifts through the air, just barely audible._

_“Hi Dean.  My name is Castiel.”_

_Dean smiles even though he hurts._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

_Dean shivers uncontrollably.  He can't seem to get warm anymore.  He has a hard time concentrating on anything.  His mind drifts in a dim haze of pain.  He starts to shift so he'll be able to warm up but a spike of fear runs through him and he can't breathe for a minute.  They aren't allowed to shift.  Dean knows if he shifts, they might punish Cas instead.  They might not, but he can't take the chance.  Dean just curls up tighter and tries to sleep._

“ _Dean?”_

_Castiel's voice is even fainter than usual.  Dean knows they cut him a lot this time.  Castiel still has the strength to scream and Dean heard him. Dean is proud of Castiel, actually – he's a tough kid.  Dean thinks his brothers will be proud of him when they get out of here._

“ _...hey Cas...” Dean replies.  He can't speak very loud anymore which is good but Dean thinks he might be getting to a point where he can't talk at all._

“ _Tell me about ... your dad ... again?”_

“ _...did...”_

“ _Again?”_

“ _...Cas...tired...”_

“ _Dean?”_

_Dean tries to respond but it's hard.  It's very hard.  He just wants to sleep._

“ _Dean!”_

_Dean jerks awake – he shakes but not from cold.  He knows they heard that ... what was Castiel thinking?  The door opens and Dean can only whimper.  He finds he has tears left when Castiel starts screaming._

* * *

Dean sits alone in Dr. Barnes' waiting room.  She called him in to review his test results.  Dean didn't tell Sam or Bobby about the appointment because he doesn't want them to get hopeful.  He doesn't believe he can be healed, but they do – Dean doesn't want them to lose that hope yet.  If Sam thinks he's being treated, he won't fight leaving.  He'll go and get started on his life – away from Dean and away from Sioux Falls.  He'll have a chance to find a mate and maybe a good pack.

“Dean?” 

Dean looks up at Dr. Barnes' voice and follows her to the back.  Instead of taking him to the exam room, she leads him to her office and motions him to sit at her desk.  Dean does so with a frown.

“Now I'm nervous ...” Dean says.

Pamela smiles.  “Dean, I ... I'd like to try something.  When I read your file ... well your situation isn't as unique as you think.  I'd like you to meet someone with a similar condition.”

“Similar condition?  Doc there isn't _anyone_ with a 'similar condition' – I told you, they're all _dead_.” Dean stands up.  Whatever the mind-game Dr. Barnes has in mind, he doesn't want to play.  “I'm done.  Thanks for nothing.”

“Dean, wait ...” Pamela begins to walk around her desk but before she can reach Dean, the door to her office opens.

Dean is reaching for the doorknob when the door opens and he takes a startled step back.  A man with dark hair and incredibly blue eyes stands before him, just as startled.  He recovers and smiles broadly at Dean, extending his hand.

“You must be Dean Winchester,” the man says.

Dean doesn't know the guy from Adam, but he reflexively takes the guy's hand.  “Yeah, I'm Dean and you --”

Dean doesn't finish his question because he's staring at their hands gripping one another.  He looks up, stunned, and sees that the other man is feeling it too.  Or rather _not_ feeling it.

“It ... it doesn't ...” Dean stutters.  He jerks his hand back and hisses at the sensation that follows.

The other man winces as well and gapes at Dean.  “It ... didn't _hurt_ ...”

Dean can only imagine what the expression on his face must be – his eyes feel as wide as saucers.  The pain – the never-ending ache that has filled his very bones since he was six years old – was gone.  He took this man's hand and the pain was _gone_.  Vanished.  Erased like it had never been.

“Who _are_ you?” Dean asks.  He thinks maybe this guy is an honest-to-God faith healer or something.  

The man blinks and suddenly his spectacularly blue eyes are filling with – Dean is sure they can't be tears.  “Dean ... it really _is_ you ...”

The man reaches out and Dean backs away, stumbling into a chair.  “Whoa there ... who the fuck are you, man?”

Pamela steps to the man's side and puts a hand on his shoulder.  “Dean, this is Castiel Novak.”

Dean frowns.  He knows that name ... it's hovering at the edge of his memory but for some reason he doesn't want to know how he recognizes it.  “I don't --- I don't know anyone named Castiel.”

The man looks worriedly at Pamela and she pats his arm and steps toward Dean.  Her voice is soft and suddenly Dean feels like all he wants to do is run.  “Dean ... I know this is a shock.  You thought all the other children were dead but – Castiel survived too.”

Dean hears only white noise in his head.  He doesn't want to remember anything about Hell – he named it that in his mind and it hides all the horrible details quite nicely.  It relegates them to dark dreams and painful seizures.  He doesn't have to remember anything further. He doesn't have to remember the screams.  Or the table.  Or the blade. Or ... or  --

“ _No ... no ... no ... no ... can't ... don't want to ...”_ Dean's voice has slipped into a higher pitched timbre ... that of a small child.  He's shaking his head and trying to back away from the man who can't be standing in front of him.  He can't be standing there because they told Dean he was dead.  Dead and nothing could be done about that – he was alone.  Alone with his pain and his dreams and his scars.  “ _Cas ..._ _please don't leave me don't leave me here ... please ...”_

Dean's eyes roll back in his head and he crumples to the floor as memory overtakes him.

* * *

_Dean cries when Castiel stops screaming.  The silence is too much.  His Castiel can't be gone – not like the others ... he shouldn't have been trying to help Dean – he should have stayed quiet.  Quiet so they wouldn't hear – so they wouldn't hurt him._

_He doesn't hear anything from the direction of Castiel's cage.  He strains to hear anything – breathing or a heartbeat – he should be able to hear something – anything.  Silence presses on his ears, making them hurt.  He starts to scream._

“ _Cas!Cas!Cas!Cas!”_

_Dean kicks at the door of his cage but he's far weaker than he was when he was first brought here.  He can't do much more than rattle the wire in its frame.  Dean doesn't care – he wants them to hear.  He wants them to come and take him back to the room with the table.  He wants the man with the wrong smell to finish it.  He wants to be dead too. Like his Castiel.  His Castiel was strong and brave and he shouldn't be dead.  Dean should be dead.  He should be the one who is quiet. Dean wants to die but no one comes no matter how much he tries to scream._

“ _Cas ... don't leave me ... don't leave me here ... scared ... Cas please ... please don't go ... please ...”_

_Dean is nearly catatonic when the federal agents raid the farm and find the cages in the barn.  He doesn't remember anything until much later when he wakes up in the hospital and his daddy is beside his bed.  He asks and is told that his Castiel is dead.  He doesn't ask anything else.  He tells the men in suits all he can remember about Hell and then he stops talking.  He doesn't talk again for a long time.  He dreams and he hurts and he makes himself forget the details.  It was Hell and it was bad and that's all he needs to know about it._

_His daddy has to leave their pack – the Campbell pack – because of him – they say he's cursed because his mommy died in a fire and then he got taken.  His daddy starts drinking and Dean knows it's all his fault.  His uncle Bobby takes him and Sam in after the first serious jail sentence.  He sees his daddy sometimes but it gets to be longer and longer between visits.  The visits stop when Dean is twelve.  Bobby tells him when they get a letter about his daddy dying.  When Dean turns sixteen Bobby tells him the rest – his daddy found a mate and joined another pack.  Dean puts that in the back of his mind and focuses on making sure that Sammy doesn't pay for Dean's fuck-ups._

_He doesn't dream about his Castiel.  The pain helps him forget._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean dreams of his Castiel.  He dreams of a faint voice full of fear and somehow ... hope.  Dean dreams of climbing out of the hated cage and seeing his Castiel standing there – safe and whole.  Dean doesn't want to wake up because they told him Castiel was dead.  His Castiel.

* * *

_Dean listens to Castiel talk about his family.  He is the baby of the family and Dean smiles.  Castiel tells Dean that his oldest brother, Michael, was a real jerk.  He's thirteen years Castiel's senior. Michael had to take Castiel to the movies and he was mad about it. He left Castiel in one theatre and went to another with his friends. Castiel remembers the movie starting but then something covered his nose and mouth and he couldn't stay awake.  Dean remembers the same thing happening to him – he was reading a comic and then he smelled something strange.  He woke up in the cage._

_Castiel still cries sometimes but he's been hurt now and the pain uses up all his tears like it did Dean's.  Dean tells Castiel about Sammy.  He tells him about how smart he thinks Sammy is going to be – a real genius._

“ _My Sammy is gonna be the best at everything.” Dean says._

_Castiel is quiet for so long Dean thinks he's gone to sleep.  Just as Dean is dozing off he hears Castiel ask, “Dean?  Can I be yours too?”_

_Sleepily, Dean agrees.  “Sure, you can be my Cas.  You're gonna do all sorts of great stuff when we get outta here.”_

“ _Dean?”_

“ _Yeah, Cas?”_

“ _I'll always be your Castiel.  Will you ...” Castiel doesn't finish his question but Dean answers him anyway._

“ _I'll always be your Dean, Cas ... go to sleep.”_

* * *

Dean swims up from the black with a gasp.  He's in his own bed and he can feel Sam wrapped tightly around him.  Dean wonders if he had a seizure ... if the office visit was just a fever dream.

“Sa-sammy? Let up ... ” Dean's throat feels raw.

Dean tries to pull away but Sam won't let go.  He turns his head slightly and he can smell his brother's distress.  He feels Sam's hot breath against his neck.

“Hey ... Sammy?”  Dean starts to feel a little worried.

Sam slowly disentangles himself from his older brother and sits up slowly.  Dean rolls over and looks at him with a frown.  He's shocked to see the tear tracks and red eyes.  Frowning, Dean starts to sit up, but Sam lays a strong hand against his brother's shoulder and urges him to lay back.  

“Just ... just rest for a sec, Dean.  You ... you passed out at Dr. Barnes' office – do you remember coming home?” Sam asks.  The worried 'v' between his brows makes Dean tense.

“No ... just ... no, I remember ... fuck – some guy was in her office then I woke up here,” Dean says.  He throws his arm across his eyes.  The memory is strange – he can't pull a clear image of the man's face.  It's like he's looking up from underwater – everything ripples.

“Dean ... the guy ... he – do you remember _anything_ about him?” Sam asks.

“No. Don't really want to, either,” Dean says.  He sits up now, ignoring Sam's protest.  “Sammy, did I have another seizure?”

Sam nods.  “We got you in the door and you went down again.  You ... you were screaming, Dean.  Like you used to when – right after dad brought you home from the hospital.”

Dean sighs.  “Bad memories I guess.  Man, I'm starving.”

Sam watches his brother stubbornly try to avoid what has to be hovering at the fore of his mind.  Dean is king of burying his pain and fear – but Sam knows he can't let him continue.

“Dean – you know who that was in Dr. Barnes' office.” Sam says.

Dean shakes his head.  “Nope.  Don't know, don't care.  What's the big deal, Sammy?”

“Big deal is you're trying to avoid something you need to face, Dean,” Sam replies.  “It stopped hurting when you touched his hand, according to Dr. Barnes.  Do you remember that?”

Dean closes his eyes.  “Sammy ... please don't ... I don't know him ... I don't.  I don't.”  Sam winces when Dean's voice starts going up. 

“He's here.  He wants to meet you ...”

“No!” Dean stands abruptly and wavers on unsteady legs as he looks at Sam with fear-filled eyes.  “No no no no ... I don't wanna see him ... he's not ... it's not real ... don't ... don't make me remember Sammy ... please ... I don't wanna ... “

The floorboard near the door that always creaks does so at that moment and Dean hears his name.  The voice is years older and much deeper but it's still the voice that whispered to him in Hell.  It says his name again in the same barely there whisper.

“Dean ...”

Dean's shoulders fall and he can't stop the tears.  He speaks in the ghost-like exhale.  “You left ... you left me ...”

Dean begins to shake.  Castiel steps closer.

“I didn't know ... I never would have left you ... never ...”

Castiel hesitantly puts his hand between Dean's shoulder blades.  Dean jerks like he's been shocked and a sob tears out of his throat.  He throws his head back and howls.  Sam bites his lower lip but the tears fall anyway.

Castiel just stands there as Dean turns around, his breath coming in short hitching gasps as he cries a lifetime of tears he never let himself shed.  Castiel's tears are falling silently.  “Am I still your Cas?”

Dean can't speak ... he doesn't trust his voice.  He looks into eyes as blue as the sky.  He never dreamed Castiel's eyes were blue – he never pictured his friend at all when they were in Hell.  There was only a voice and a scent – Dean shuts his eyes and takes a trembling breath.  He can smell the sweet scent that was buried beneath all the blood and pain.  It's really his Castiel.

Dean opens his eyes and suddenly he's pulling Cas into his arms and holding him as tightly as he can.  Castiel doesn't resist – in fact he tightens his own arms around Dean.  Dean just buries his nose against Castiel's hair and breathes in the smell of his friend ... his friend whose soft voice kept him from going feral and giving up. His Castiel.

“ _...my castiel ... mine ...”_

“Yours, Dean ... always yours ...”

The pain that has been a part of Dean's soul for so long is nothing more than a vague memory in Castiel's arms.  Dean has no idea what's happening but he really doesn't care.  He just wants to go on holding Castiel forever.  Dean feels Sam's hand on his shoulder and then he hears his brother leave the room.  Dean thinks he should say something but the warmth of the body against his is too comforting. Castiel doesn't seem inclined to let go either and that's fine. That's just fine with Dean.

* * *

Sam manages to walk downstairs where Castiel's older brother Balthazar and Bobby wait.  He wipes at his eyes and Bobby walks over to offer a stiff hug.  

“None of that, idjit,” Bobby says hoarsely.

Balthazar looks upstairs and clears his throat.  “I suspect that they are going to need a bit of 'alone time' ... not an ideal bonding but I'm not about to complain.”

Bobby regards Balthazar for a moment.  “You mean your pack's going to be ok with this?”

“Oh, I highly doubt my brother Michael is going to like this one bit ... Castiel was rather prime mate material.  Good for uniting packs and all that.”  Balthazar gives Bobby a devilish grin.  “But he can shove it up his furred ass for all I care – from what I saw in Pamela's office, Cassy has found an end to his Hell ... and maybe your Dean has found his.”

“I knew I liked you,” Bobby says.  “I say we let them figure it out and go to the Roadhouse.  I need a drink.  Several of them, in fact.”

Sam agrees heartily and they leave the house to Castiel and Dean.

* * *

Time drifts on lazy wings.  Light creeps across the floor and fades away. Night and silence envelope and all is warmth.  Lips brush lips in the dark - slowly, tentatively.  Mouths open to one another -- tongues gently test and tease.  Hands drift over fabric and ease it away. Skin touches skin -- heat follows each caress.  Bodies press together tilting the world on its side.  Legs entwine and arousal slides against arousal.  Teeth pinch tenderly, bruising and marking.  Breath comes in gasps and sighs and moans.  Individual scent fills the air, blending and mixing to create a new singular savor.  Friction creates pleasure and entices the chase – muscles strain in tandem – giving and taking until sensation blinds all senses.  Sound escapes into the shadows – declaration and devotion merging into one voice. Starlight is witness to willing repetition until desire is finally spent.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many thanks to those who have read and commented or even just read -- you encourage me in ways you don't even know! The boys took a sort of holiday -- regularly scheduled plot will continue next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean wakes up slowly. He hasn’t awakened without some sort of violent movement or sound since he was six.  His next revelation is that he is on his back with someone beside him.  His face is pressed into the dark hair of the man asleep with his back pressed to Dean's side.  A smile slides into place as memory replays the night’s events.  Dean takes a deep breath and Castiel's simple, sweet scent fills his nose – it reminds him of licorice.  Dean lets that smell invade him – each layer tells him something about the person pillowed on his bicep.  Warm breath ghosts along his arm.  The soft top layer tells him that Castiel is relaxed, mostly likely still asleep.  The edge is marked with hazy arousal – Dean grins.  His own morning hard-on tents the sheet where it lays across his hips.

Dean runs his fingertips along the expanse of shoulder he can see. What was ignored last night is suddenly all he can think about – Castiel is here.  His Castiel is _alive_.  His mind turns this fact over again – then his fingers drift over a birds nest of ridges.  Dean pauses and begins to map those ridges.  So thin – the knife was always razor sharp – and long.   Dean has matching scars on his own back.  His fingertips tell him the entire session – the scars on the bottom were first, then more cuts laid on top.  He hears the remembered odd wavering voice in the background calling out to God.  Dean's eyes focus on the back of his own hand.  Jagged cuts decorate the skin there – the first ones given.  The lesson was swiftly learned about being still and quiet.

The shoulder he is touching shifts and Castiel turns over to face him.  His hand travels over Dean’s chest, tracing the crisscross of scars there.  “I’ve never … I was always so self-conscious about them.  Last night … they didn’t matter anymore.”

Dean smiles and eases over Castiel.  He leans down and kisses Castiel gently.  He nips at the stubbled jawline and then drags his tongue down Castiel’s throat.  Dean smiles against the groan that vibrates through the body beneath his own.   He answers with a low growl and raises his head to meet Castiel’s gaze.  The blue eyes are ringed by yellow – Dean can feel his own wolf pacing, impatient to claim.

“What the hell _is_ this, Cas?” Dean asks, kissing the hollow of Castiel’s throat.

“Does it matter?”

Dean considers.  It’s not a traditional arranged mating – usually packs would be involved and there would be an official ‘courting’ phase.  It’s not even the imperative that sometimes draws two compatible mates together.  It's simply something Dean knows is somehow _right_.  Still … he can't let Castiel run blindly into this.  Dean swallows hard and lightly draws his fingers down Castiel's cheek.

“Cas … I’m not … “

“Don’t.”

“Don't what?”

“You're trying to give me a way out – an escape.  I don't want one, Dean.  This isn't normal or planned or logical – and I do not care.  I have not slept in over two decades without dreaming of your voice.  I've prayed to die a thousand times over so that we could be together again.”  Castiel's hands frame Dean's face and force him to meet the cerulean gaze.  “I gave you my heart when I was six, Dean – when I was a small, hurt child.  I've been yours ever since.”

Dean's heart thunders in his chest and behind that sound his wolf snaps and snarls in frustration at being held at bay.

“… _mine_ … _my Castiel …”_

Castiel’s eyes shift into the wolf aspect and he whines, arching his neck to expose it to Dean.  Dean feels his incisors lengthening -- the wolf is demanding its mate.  Dean cocks his head to the side, asking one final time before the wolfen side of his soul howls to heaven and he loses what little control he still possesses.  Castiel answers by sliding out from under him and off the bed.  He shifts and a wolf with thick black/blue fur is lying on the floor, throat and soft underside exposed, submitting.

Dean stares.  A mating only requires a claiming bite in human or half-wolf form – the mark will heal eventually.  By shifting to the wolf, Castiel is telling Dean that he will give up everything to be with him.  He will abandon pack and family for this mating.  If Dean claims him while in his own wolf form, he will add one more scar to a shoulder lined with them.  Dean wants to run.  Dean wants to take Castiel.  Emotion wars within him.  No one has ever offered Dean so much – he cannot be worthy of it.

“ _Cas_ …” Dean groans hoarsely.  Tears slide down his face.

Castiel whines.  The desperate plea from Castiel's wolf steals Dean's reason.  He pushes off the bed, shifting mid-air.  Castiel flips over and Dean lands behind him.  He presses Castiel to the floor, his teeth gripping the scruff.  A shiver runs through Castiel’s body and Dean drags him into position.  He mounts Castiel with no preamble – this is no human joining.  The half-barking whine that emerges from Castiel signals his pleasure and Dean gives over to the wolf entirely. 

He thrusts into Castiel until his blood is singing for release.  Dean bites down hard on Castiel's neck.  As a human, the bite will be a little high on the join between neck and shoulder.  Castiel howls, lost in his own pleasure.  Dean's voice joins Castiel's and for a moment they are frozen in a feral embrace.

Falling apart, they lie panting for several moments.  Then Castiel moves to lay beside Dean, pressing the furred length of his body against his mate.  He begins to lick Dean’s face, grooming.  Dean basks in the attention – the wolf is sated and it happily accepts the ministrations of its mate.  Castiel works his way over the entirety of Dean’s body, inhaling and committing to memory his mate’s scent.  Dean does the same for Castiel – the act is almost as intimate as their joining and Dean thrills in it.

Shifting back to human, Dean and Castiel move back to the bed.  Dean watches with fascination as his bite heals and  resolves itself into small bumps that mark Castiel as mated.  He feels uncommonly pleased -- if they dissolve the bond, Castiel will have to have the mark surgically removed.  Dean presses a kiss to the bite and smiles when Castiel sighs.

“ … _mine …”_ Dean breathes against the mark.

“ … _yours …”_ Castiel agrees.

* * *

Dean swims up from sleep to the sensation of moist heat and pressure pulling on his cock.  He doesn't completely comprehend what is happening before his thoughts disintegrate into a thousand sparks. Back arched off the bed, Dean's deep rumbling moan ripples through his entire body. 

Dean's eyes are glassy when he opens them again.  He smiles, pleasure-drunk.  Dean goes willingly to Castiel's cock when his hand is led there.  He watches as his mate's head falls back under his slow, steady strokes.  Dean claims Castiel's mouth as a thick warmth spills over his hand.  His tongue delves deeply into his mate, tasting himself and his groan echoes the one Castiel releases into the kiss.

Dean can't stop touching Castiel.  He wants to be inside him again ... _now._ Dean can barely make it through the prep stage before his pressing his head against Castiel's entrance.  He hesitates, afraid his aggression is too much too soon.  Castiel's legs lock around him and Dean finds himself pulled flush to Castiel's body. From there it's all heat --- Dean climaxes once, twice and again in succession – Castiel's orgasm travels like a lightning bolt through his spine and he calls out Dean's name until his gravel-laden voice fades.

They sleep in each other's arms and the sun is drifting into the shadows when Dean realizes he's mated to the man in his arms – and that he loves him completely.  For once, Dean Winchester doesn't question what's before him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Bobby and Sam arrive home while Dean and Castiel are having grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.  Bobby is simply relieved they are both dressed.  Sam is ecstatic that the bedroom he shares with Dean has been aired out .  Dean gives them both annoyed looks and grumbles about not being a total Neanderthal.

“So … Castiel … your brother Balthazar’s notified your pack – guess we’re all gonna have to have some sorta pow-wow about this,” Bobby says, sipping on a Coke.

Castiel nibbles on a pickle and sighs.  “That would be Michael’s doing – he isn’t going to like this at all.”

“Not like he has much choice in the matter,” Sam interjects, stealing a chip from Dean’s plate.  “It’s the 21st century, not the first.”

“Do not tell Michael that – he is … _traditional_.  Michael has long considered me a liability to the pack since the incident.  Lately, however, there had been interest from the Roman pack.” Castiel says.

Bobby nods.  “Yeah, that’s what your brother said – pretty big coup linking up with that pack.”

Dean’s appetite has slowly faded and his stomach clenches tightly inside him.  The Roman pack is one of the largest packs in the country and they have pedigrees traceable back to antiquity.  Dean and Sam are pretty much ‘mutts’ by werewolf standards.  Dean realizes that he’s a twenty-two year old wolf who basically still lives at home.  He works in Bobby’s salvage yard and does car repair on the side.  He’s never been to college and really never cared about it.  Dean doesn't want to hear anymore -- he tosses the remainder of his lunch.  Sam rolls his eyes.

“Dean, stop it.”

Dean doesn’t bother responding.  He walks out of the house to the salvage yard and the Impala.  Castiel finds him sitting on the hood – music playing from the speakers in the car.  Castiel walks around to stand in front of his mate. 

“Sam said that you are feeling … inadequate?” Castiel says.

“Sammy should keep his fucking opinions to himself,” Dean growls.  He doesn’t look up to meet Castiel’s eyes.

Castiel steps close, forcing Dean to open his legs to allow his mate to slot between them.  Castiel takes Dean’s face between his hands like he did the previous night. 

“Why would you feel this way, Dean?  I love _you_ – all aspects of you.”

Dean snorts and falls back to lie on the hood, his arm across his eyes.  He waves the other one toward the yard proper.  “Yeah … look around you, Cas.  All this can be yours too – life in a junkyard.”

“I suppose … Bobby has done rather well considering his limited education and upbringing,” Castiel observes, taking a couple of steps back from Dean.

Dean sits up abruptly at Castiel’s comment.  “What the hell is that supposed to mean – ‘limited education’?!?  Just because he didn’t go to some fucking Ivy League school doesn’t mean he’s a moron – Bobby’s probably smarter than half the professors there anyway!  And he _raised_ me an’ Sam when our dad decided to start over with a better family – what does that make me?”

Castiel is smiling at Dean’s outburst.  “It makes you my mate.  My _chosen_ mate.  You love Bobby no matter his circumstances – why would you think I would do less?  I realize we barely know one another but I would like to think I’m not quite that shallow.”

Dean purses his lips and then sighs.  “I don’t think you’re that shallow, Cas … it’s just … your pack is … you’re a fucking _Novak_.”

“It is traditional for the mate to take the name of his or her alpha,” Castiel replies.

Dean is sure his jaw has fallen to the ground.  “You … you want to – I’m – but –“

Castiel smiles and steps up to kiss Dean softly before he can stammer any longer.  “I told you, Dean – I am yours.  I always will be – and you claimed _me_ , if you recall.  That makes _you_ the alpha in this relationship.”

“Cas, I don’t know if I can do this,” Dean whispers.  “I’m not exactly prime real estate.”

Castiel laughs gently.  “Dean … do you think _I_ am?  My pack was no less scandalized by what was done to me – they simply had the funds to hide me away.  Last night was the first time I’ve shifted since I was six years old and didn’t want to scream from the pain.  I’ve been raised to understand that I am … _less_ , somehow, because the pain made me weaker and more vulnerable.  The scars make me less aesthetically pleasing.  The constant nightmares show that I am unstable mentally and emotionally.”

Dean feels a surge of anger and protectiveness.  He slides his hand around Castiel’s neck and kisses him, pouring everything he feels for the man into it.  When he pulls back, he looks at Castiel tenderly.  “How could anyone think you are _less_ than absolutely perfect?”  Dean hates chick-flick moments but right now all he wants to do is tear someone’s throat out for making his mate feel the pain and terror he suffered made him unworthy.  “You … you kept me from losing it in that cage, Cas --- you’re the reason I didn’t just lay down and die.  Don’t they understand what that maniac _did_ to you?”

“As much as your old pack understood, I suppose.  I would have gone feral that very first night if you hadn’t talked to me.  The ones that took us would have killed me outright if I had --- your voice was the sweetest sound to me back then.  You have no idea how terrified I was … well, maybe you do know at that.”  Castiel says. 

Dean kisses his mate’s forehead.  “Yeah, I know … gods I’m such a girl right now.”

Castiel chuckles, then sobers.  “Dean … do you regret claiming me?”

“Not for a second … can I tell you something?” Dean asks.

“Of course.”

“I kinda think I’ve always been yours too, Cas.”

* * *

Dean is educating Castiel on why Led Zeppelin is the best band _ever_ while they walk back to the main house.  Castiel’s scent changes as they walk around to the front.  Dean sees a white Aston Martin V12 Vantage Roadster parked in the drive.  The bitter edge to Castiel’s scent is all that keeps him from running over to stroke it reverently. 

“Cas?”

“It’s my brother’s car – Balthazar.”

Dean’s enthusiasm wanes abruptly.  The inevitable Novak pack meeting. Dean takes Castiel’s hand in his own as they walk into the house – and then Castiel’s hand is jerked out of his along with his mate as a shorter man with dark blonde hair grabs Castiel in a bear hug.  Before he can react, Sam quickly inserts himself between Dean and the stranger.

“Brother – it’s his brother!” Sam says urgently.

Dean takes a few quick deep breaths.  He’s off-balance at the sudden surfacing of his wolf.  Another voice speaks near him, making him jump.

“It’s the mating, darling,” the soft accented voice explains.  “For a few days you’re going to want to kill anyone that gets near him.”

Sam makes introductions but Dean’s only half listening; his eyes are still on his mate and the man he doesn’t know.  The other brother – Balthazar, Dean’s mind supplies – sighs.

“Gabriel!  Will you let Castiel go before there is bloodshed?  He’s newly mated for gods sake,” Balthazar hollers across the room.

Gabriel looks around and gives Dean a large grin before holding his arms out and taking two large steps backwards.  “My bad – sorry about that Dean-o!”

Castiel regards his sibling with frustrated amusement and walks back to his mate.  Dean immediately drapes his arm around Castiel’s shoulders, never taking his eyes off Gabriel.  His heart is racing but the wolf slowly calms now that Castiel is next to him again.  Castiel pulls Dean over to the couch to sit down.

“Well, now that you’ve met my family …” Castiel begins.

Bobby, who has watched the entire interaction leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, snorts and passes his own judgment.  “Buncha idjits if you ask me.”

Dean exhales sharply and pushes the wolf down completely for the time being.  He runs a hand over his face, then points at the brother who spoke to him in the British accent.  “Balthazar?”

“Oh good, you _were_ listening – yes, I’m the fourth oldest.  The utter moron who attacked your mate is Gabriel – third in line.” Balthazar says with a smile. “There are five of us.  Father was rather the religious sort – he named us all after angels.  Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Balthazar and our little Castiel.”  Castiel glares at his brother for the ‘little’ descriptive, but says nothing. 

“Yeah, yeah … it’s not every day your baby brother gets hitched.” Gabriel says, plunking himself down in a chair and pulling a sucker from his shirt pocket.  “I’m happy for the little guy, what can I say?”

Castiel rolls his eyes.  “I did not get _hitched_ , Gabriel.  I was _mated._   And I have been taller than you since I was twelve.”

Gabriel huffs.  “You’re three – count them - _three_ inches taller than me, Cassy.  Thank the gods you're not like Godzilla over here,” Gabriel jerks a thumb toward Sam who repeats Castiel’s eye roll.

“Sammy’s taller than everyone,” Dean says dismissively.  “So … Gabriel … Balthazar – I’m guessin’ this isn’t a social call?”

Balthazar sighs and flips a chair around to straddle it.  He shares a look with Gabriel.  “No, Dean, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Michael?”

Gabriel regards his sucker with an almost embarrassed expression.  “Yeah … and don't get mad -- Lucifer has to back him, Cassy – he’s the pack second.”

Balthazar looks directly at Castiel with a sad expression.  “Cassy … he’s going to appeal the mating at Council.”

Castiel's eyes close and when he opens them again, they are almost luminous with righteous fury.  He stalks into the kitchen and leans heavily on the counter trying to get his anger under control.  Castiel knows he cannot be separated from Dean now -- and his oldest brother has no right to attempt it.  A sudden growl from Bobby draws his attention back to the living room.

“I don’t know who the fuck your brother thinks he is, but if he wants a fight then I’ll sure as shit give him one!  These boys are like sons to me and I’m as close to an alpha as they got – this Michael wants to get to Castiel he’s gonna damn well have to go through me.” Bobby’s eyes are glowing yellow – his wolf doesn’t present often, but Dean thinks it just might today.

Dean stands and looks over at Castiel who is thunderstruck in the kitchen.  Into the lull drops another low voice suffused with rage -- Dean is shocked to realize it's Sam talking.

“Dean’s my brother and Castiel is his mate – Michael doesn’t have a valid case in _any_ court, were or human,” Sam snarls, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, eyes in full wolf aspect.  “Castiel is a Winchester now and your brother does not want to know the hell that I will rain down on him if he tries to fuck with us.”

Castiel walks slowly back to Dean’s side.  He is comforted when the now-familiar arm slides around his waist and a soft kiss presses to his temple.  Dean’s scent is like fresh rain surrounding him.  Castiel looks at his elder brothers who are slightly stunned at the instant and enraged response from Dean’s family.  He is rather taken aback himself.  Bobby sees his wide eyes and chuckles.

“Welcome to the family, boy,” he says with a smile.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

By pack Law, no pure human is allowed to attend the werewolf Council.  All must have some vestige of the wolf within them, whether they can shift or not.  As children, every werewolf is brought to the Council to be recognized in whatever pack claims them.  Council is also where pack members are cast out.

Dean, Sam and Bobby are all in newly purchased suits for Council.  Dean tries to stay calm but as they wait in the antechamber to the Council room, he grows more and more anxious.

“Boy, you better sit down before you _fall_ down,” Bobby growls.  “You're makin' me dizzy going back and forth like that.”

Dean exhales sharply and Castiel tugs him down to the bench beside him. 

“Dean ... Sam is right ... what can Michael possibly say that would sway the Council to dissolving our union?” Castiel says softly.  “It is posturing on Michael's part and nothing more.”

Dean does not answer; he simply holds his head in his hands while Castiel rubs gentle circles on his back.  He looks up and meets Sam's eyes.  The Winchester brothers know full-well what the Council can do to their lives – the last time they were here Dean was seven and after the Council conferred, Dean and his family went home without a pack.  Dean asked Bobby and Sam to stay out of it this time but neither man would listen and so they will face whatever judgment the Council might lobby against them.

The door opens and they are summoned.  Dean grabs Castiel's hand and holds it tightly.  He is terrified but he will do whatever is necessary to ensure that Castiel is always by his side.

* * *

The Council room is large, capable of holding well over five hundred pack members.  Today it holds only the Council of seven, the Novak pack and representatives of the Roman pack.  Dean scents approximately seventy individuals seated around the chamber.  His hand clenches tighter on Castiel's. 

Balthazar and Gabriel sit with the Novak pack.  At the front of the chamber is a table where Lucifer, the Novak pack second and Michael, the pack head sit.  Seated next to them at the same table is Richard Roman and his pack second, Edgar Martinez.  Castiel and Dean sit at a second table.  Sam will speak for Dean since he is the closest blood relative.  Bobby will second Sam.

With a pained expression, Lucifer speaks up.  “I respectfully ask the Council to bar the wolf Castiel from speaking in this matter – he is still a member of the Novak pack and by their own admission, Dean Winchester is the alpha and therefore the only individual permitted to speak regarding the relationship.”

Castiel stiffens beside Dean.  It is an old law, but he has a feeling Michael has turned over every ancient law or by-law in existence to find his loophole.  Sam clears his throat.

“Council members, my brother is newly mated – only two days prior.  It would be cruel to physically separate them.” Sam says reasonably.

One of the Council regards Dean and Castiel before nodding.  “The wolf Castiel Novak will sit with his pack for now.  He is not required to leave the chamber.”

It's the best Sam can hope for – Dean claimed Castiel and so is technically the only one who can defend his position.  Castiel presses a kiss to Dean's hair before he moves to sit with Gabriel and Balthazar.  Dean fights to keep his expression impassive.  He refuses to let any of them see how much not having Castiel next to him hurts.

Dean blinks at the thought.  He's lived his entire life never needing or asking for support.  He feels the emptiness at his side now more keenly than ever – Dean knows a separation from Castiel would kill him.

Lucifer speaks again.  “Council, we ask that Castiel Novak not be referred to as Dean Winchester's mate as his status as such is in question today.”

Castiel growls low in the back of his throat but Balthazar lays a calming hand on his brother's arm.  Balthazar knows the pain that Lucifer is feeling at the moment – he'd been against the appeal from the beginning.  Unfortunately, as pack second, Lucifer has no choice – he has to do what is best for the pack … even if that means losing his beloved baby brother.

“Council,” Sam says calmly.  “If Castiel Novak is not to be recognized as Dean Winchester's mate, Dean cannot be considered his alpha and there is no bar to him speaking in defense of himself.”

Dean wants to hug his little brother.  He will make a spectacular lawyer someday.  Lucifer acknowledges the conflict and accepts Castiel being referred to as mate.  He has lost a small point, but Castiel is still prevented from speaking.

Dean's heart falls within him.  He _claimed_ Castiel ... his mark is on his mate's shoulder.  A mating is supposed to be an inviolable thing ... nothing is more binding than a claiming.  Dean takes a deep breath and is grateful for Bobby's hand on his shoulder.  He might burst into tears otherwise.

“The Council will hear the Novak pack appeal.”

Lucifer stands and begins to make their case.  Castiel's impetuous nature has led him to accept a claiming by a lone wolf without pack or true Alpha.  Lucifer cites other instances where Castiel went against the pack dictates for his life.  Dean listens and is astonished to know his Castiel never went quietly along with Michael's plans for him.  He remembers his mate explaining how he had been raised to believe he was less than a wolf should be – apparently the lesson did not take.  He wishes he could tell his mate how proud he is of him for fighting all these years – for refusing to be held or bound by the wishes of another.  Unfortunately, in the end, Castiel’s defiance might be the end of everything if Lucifer has his way.

* * *

“Council, my father was alpha of our pack when Castiel returned to us.  He was within his rights to kill Castiel if he had so chosen.  Instead, he opted for the mercy of allowing him to retain his place in his home.” Lucifer says. 

Castiel snorts.  Lucifer says it as though it was a desirable thing.  Castiel lived in his father's home and enjoyed the comfort and safety of that home, but he was effectively persona non grata.  He was tolerated within the pack but he could not voice an opinion nor make a decision.  Eventually it became clear that while Castiel was still a member of the pack ... he was outcast as surely as if he'd been left in the woods to die.  

Castiel looks across the room to Dean – his mate, no matter what these fools decide.  The memory of Dean's voice gave him courage as a child.  The mark signifying Dean’s devotion and love does the same now.

Humans did not understand the shunning of damaged pups.  In truth, since the Emergence of the werewolf into the human world it was not a common practice anymore and most packs considered it inhumane.  The reason behind it was one of the oldest dictates in pack Law -- “To know the strength of the Pack is to know the Wolf.  To know the strength of the Wolf is to know the Pack.”  One cannot exist without the other, thus weakness is not easily tolerated in packs.  It had sealed the Winchester's fate with the Campbell pack.  Dean's debilitating seizures and inability to shift without pain was more than enough cause.  Dean’s father could have chosen to kill him but instead he went along with the Council’s decision.  Dean wonders how many times he regretted not burying a silver blade in his young son’s heart instead of leaving.

Lucifer continues his appeal.  Dean never knew a day could be so long.

* * *

Dean stares at the tabletop.  The Council has ruled that he and Castiel can remain mates.  However, Michael has declared that if they do he will force Castiel out of the pack.  Castiel will never see his family again.  Dean doesn’t know if he can even _ask_ that of Castiel.

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice pulls Dean’s gaze up.  “Do you … do you not want ---“

Castiel has come to stand next to the table.  He’s uncertain now because Dean hasn’t acknowledged him.  The look on his mate’s face brings Dean’s alpha instincts fore. 

“I want you, Cas.  I will _always_ want you. But how can I take you away from your family?”

“You marked me as _yours_ , Dean.  _You_ are my family now.”

Dean can’t help himself; he kisses Castiel across the table.  “Then I guess we go home.”

“Castiel!” Michael’s voice carries across the chamber.  “You realize if you accept this, you are _cut off_ from everything … no money, no belongings, no _home_ … everything that the Novak pack provided you!”

Castiel turns his back on his older brother and flips him off while smiling at Dean.  Dean returns the smile and then he’s shifting and launching himself past Castiel to slam into Michael’s black wolf.  The two go crashing off the table and onto the floor, Dean’s teeth on Michael’s throat.  Castiel finds himself flanked by Sam and Bobby who hold him from attacking.  Dean is the alpha and it has to be his victory or fail.

Dean, however, is not fighting Michael.  He’s smaller than the Novak brother but he’s stronger.  His jaws hold Michael effectively motionless against the floor without causing damage.  It tells the Council two things:  one, he respects the venue – Michael breached the admonition against violence in the Council chambers with his attack and two, he is a true alpha with the restraint necessary to assert his dominance and claim without bloodshed.

The Roman contingent has distanced themselves from the fray with looks of disgust toward Michael’s poor showing. Dick Roman speaks to Edgar and leaves without a backward glance.  Edgar walks over to Lucifer and says in a low voice, “We no longer wish involvement in this matter – should we wish to further talks about merging our clans … _we_ will contact _you.”_

Lucifer can do nothing but nod respectfully.  He frowns and looks over at where Dean and Michael have shifted back and are staring at each other.  Michael’s chest is heaving.  Dean looks at the Council members who have observed the incident impassively.  They shared glances among them and then one of the Council speaks.

“Dean Winchester, your claim to the wolf Castiel Novak will be entered into record and he will be listed as a member of the Winchester pack.  Do you have the requisite seven members?”

Dean’s eyes widen and he looks back at Sam who is just as stunned.  The Council is offering to recognize Dean as the alpha of his own pack which is not a common occurrence among cast-off wolves.  Sam clears his throat.

“Council, we are only four at this time,” Sam is praying they will allow the exception for the time being until they can find members.  His heart falls when he sees heads shaking.  Michael sneers.

“As if anyone would join a mutt pack like yours, Winchester.”

Dean says nothing but clenches his jaw and walks back to stand beside Castiel, Sam and Bobby.  He figures he’ll have to thank the Council for the consideration but decline.  Another voice speaks up then and Dean hears Castiel’s sharp inhale.

“Council, as the Novak pack second, I wish to petition for alpha position of our pack.  My brother has shown himself to be unfit to lead our pack responsibly.  The pack must be considered in all things – it was not in this matter and our name is weaker for it.  It is not the mark of a worthy pack alpha.”

Michael is sputtering in rage.  Dean wonders if he’s going to attack Lucifer.  One faux pas the Council might overlook … two will be serious trouble for Michael.  “How … _dare_ you!”

“You require the majority of the pack in agreement,” The Council reminds Lucifer.

Dean startles when he hears the sound of people coming to their feet.  He looks and every member of the Novak pack is standing.  Dean thinks he would hear a single wolf whisker hit the floor when even Gabriel and Balthazar stand.  Michael whirls on the Council.

“You cannot … _cannot_ sanction this!  I have been alpha of this pack since my father passed away … I am the oldest!”

“Your pack seems to care more for their cohesiveness than your position, Michael Novak.  We acknowledge the change – Lucifer Novak, you are pack alpha henceforth.”

“Thank you, Council – I wish my first act to be to offer an alliance to Dean Winchester.  As my youngest brother is his mate, it seems only proper that we offer support to a fledgling pack until such time as they are large enough to stand independent of us.”  Lucifer looks over at Castiel with a faint smile.

“Dean Winchester, you are alpha … do you accept this offer of allegiance?”

Dean looks down at Castiel and smiles.  He looks up at the Council and nods.  “I accept gratefully.”

“Then the Winchester pack will be noted in the record.  These proceedings are closed.”

* * *

Dean is still slightly stunned as he sits on the couch with a beer in one hand and the other buried in his mate’s hair as Castiel leans against his shoulder.  It’s a comfortable feeling, having Castiel beside him. 

Dean's head whirls with everything that has happened in the span of a day. That morning all he wanted was to spend the rest of his life with Castiel. Now he's a member of a pack ... _and_ he's the alpha of said pack; his mating to Castiel is sanctioned by the Council; and, wonder of wonders, he shifted without pain or seizure even though Castiel wasn't in physical contact with him. Dean refuses to wonder about the sudden good fortune - another surprise. Dean realizes that as long as he has his family - which now includes Castiel - he is not alone any longer. He never truly was but now Dean believes it to the core of his being. He's stronger for the realization. The Novak brothers sans Michael are seated around the living room along with Sam and Bobby. Ellen has invited them all to the Roadhouse later. It's an _awesome_ day so far.

“Dean?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you happy?”

Dean looks over at the blue eyes he has come to treasure.  He never saw them in Hell and now he never wants to stop looking into them.

“I’m happier than I have a right to be,” Dean replies.  He nuzzles just behind Castiel’s ear and inhales.  “Mine.”

Castiel grins at the whisper.  There are sprinkled grins all around the room … it’s hard to have a private conversation in a room full of weres.   He looks up as his older brother Lucifer walks up to the pair.  Dean stands.  They haven’t spoken since the Council.

“Dean, I just wanted to say … thank you,” Lucifer says, holding out his hand.

“For what?” Dean asks, taking his hand and shaking.

“For giving my little brother the joy he never had growing up – I have seen him smiling more today than I’ve seen his entire _life_.  And it is usually when he’s around you.”

Dean blushes and shrugs.  “He’s my mate … all I want to do is make him happy.”

Lucifer nods.  “You’re well on your way.  We will need to discuss the finer details of this coalition but I suspect your brother Sam is up to the task.  He was very impressive today.”

Dean nods.  “He’s gonna make one hell of a lawyer someday.”

The phone rings and Bobby goes to answer it.  Castiel looks up at Lucifer.

“Luc … what – what is going to happen to Michael?”

“He has a choice – he can either accept his new position at the bottom of the pack or he can leave.  I meant what I said, Castiel – the Roman pack is a very powerful one and Michael’s performance today will cost us dearly,” Lucifer sighs.  “He is still my older brother so I won’t force him out unless the pack demands it.  I doubt they will but he’s not going to be well-liked for a long time, I suspect.”

Castiel opens his mouth to ask another question when Bobby re-enters the living room.  Dean sets his beer down and walks over to the man when he sees how pale Bobby is … Sam does the same.

“Bobby?” Dean asks worriedly.  Castiel moves to Dean’s side.

Bobby stares at Dean like he can’t see him and then he blinks.  “That was … Ellen.  The news … a pack in Spencer had two pups taken … they just – just found them.  They were cut … just like you and Castiel.”

“Oh gods,” Dean says hoarsely.  “It’s happening again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies -- credit where credit is due. The pack Law - "To know the strength of the Pack is to know the Wolf. To know the strength of the Wolf is to know the Pack." is a paraphrase from Rudyard Kiplings "Mowgli's Brothers".


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all my readers -- love you all! Your comments and encouragement are just great and so very very appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

"Dean, I'm not changing my mind, just take it!" Sam growls irritably.

"Damn it, Sammy, I'm not kickin' you out of --"

Bobby's deep growl cuts him off. "Dean, you're the alpha now, boy. Hell, you could kick me outta the whole damn house if you wanted."

"I don't want --"

Bobby's expression softens. "I know, Dean. It ain't in you -- and that's a good thing," Bobby sighs. "We don't have to decide everything right this instant, Dean. Take the bedroom for the night and we'll work it out tomorrow."

Dean nods tiredly. He just wants to sleep.

* * *

Sam snores peacefully on the couch in Bobby's living room when a blood-curdling scream splits the air. Sam is in motion before he's even entirely awake. Stumbling up the stairs, Sam runs into Bobby who blocks him from reaching the bedroom.

"Gotta let them deal with it now, Sam," Bobby says softly.

Sam hears familiar hiccuping sobs from the room. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

"He hasn't screamed like that in years, Bobby," Sam whispers.

Bobby looks older and more tired. "Yeah, I know. C'mon, I'm up now ... might as well have a beer."

Together, they go downstairs again. Sam looks worriedly up the staircase. He feels at sea because he's been Dean's go-to for every nightmare since he was old enough to understand why his big brother woke the house screaming every night. Bobby pats his shoulder. "Castiel's got this one, Sam."

* * *

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, his shirt and shorts soaked with sweat. He can't stop trembling. Castiel is sitting up behind him, leaning against his back. Castiel says nothing. Words are useless -- Castiel knows this and so he gives the only comfort he can, his presence.

After a minute or two, the tremors ease and then stop. Dean gradually lets out a long breath and relaxes. Wiping at his eyes, Dean pulls Castiel back down with him into the rumpled sheets and blankets. Face pressed against the mark on Castiel's shoulder, Dean takes several shuddering breaths and then licks against the scar. Castiel bites his lip to fight down his body's immediate response. He gets a dark chuckle from Dean, but his mate stops teasing and just breathes deeply.

Castiel's licorice scent is calming for Dean. It reminds him that he is not alone and out of everyone who loves him, Castiel _gets it_.

"Kinda surprised Sammy didn't break the damn door down," Dean murmurs against Castiel's neck.

Castiel runs his fingers through Dean's short hair. "He was well on his way ... Bobby stopped him."

God bless Bobby. "I'm gonna get the 'look' tomorrow over breakfast."

"Don't tease him, Dean ... it's hard on your family," Castiel says gently.

Dean lifts his head. "Think I maybe don't know that, Cas?"

Castiel meets Dean's eyes. "I know you are aware, Dean ... and you put on your mask as though nothing untoward happened. However, Sam will never be able to just 'let it go'... he has to try to help because you're his _brother_. You would move the world for him ... he feels the same for you."

"I know that," Dean says, nuzzling back into Castiel's shoulder.

"Dean ... how would you feel if it had been me who had the nightmare?"

Dean sighs. He knows he's about to get a lesson, but for some reason he doesn't mind it so much from Castiel. "I woulda done the same thing you did -- just let you know I was there. Not a damn thing I can do otherwise."

"Exactly. Unfortunately, Sam has no idea what you see in that dream. He doesn’t smell the copper scent of blood, he doesn’t feel the cuts as though they are going to slice you in half, he doesn’t hear that … that _voice,”_ Castiel says quietly. Dean presses closer to his mate. "All he knows is the brother he loves is hurting and he _cannot stop it._ It's a miserable position to be in according to Gabriel and Balthazar."

Dean raises up again. "How the hell do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make everything so ... simple," Dean whispers. He kisses his mate and then leans down close to his ear. With a breath light whisper, he says, "I'll make it up to him tomorrow. Promise."

* * *

True to his word, Dean walks downstairs the next morning before anyone else is up. He shoves Sam's legs over and plops on the opposite end of the couch. Sam wakes up with a jerk and promptly falls off the couch. Dean chuckles -- he's lost count of the times he's startled Sam out of sleep and onto the floor. He thinks it's funny every time — Sam much less so.

Cursing, Sam crawls back onto the couch and jerks the blanket back over himself. "What the fuck do you want, Dean?"

Dean studies a snagged thread in the upholstery on the back of the couch. "Just wanted to say thanks, Sam."

Sam blinks and looks at Dean. "Thanks? For what?" Dean keeps picking at the loose thread. "I know it's gotta suck ... when I --- you know. You were scared of me until you got old enough to know what the hell was wrong with me. I hated that. Dad didn’t help by lockin’ you in the bathroom until I was done seizin’ or cryin’. You thought you were going to catch whatever it was,” Dean sighs, blinking back tears. He’d hated the look of wary fear in little Sammy’s eyes.

“Got better after I turned 6,” Sam reminds him.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, cuz I scared the shit out of you by seizing while pouring your cereal.”

Sam shrugs. He remembers being scared but not of Dean. He’d been scared because he didn’t know what to do. So he’d done the only thing a six-year-old could do for an older brother convulsing on the floor and crying out in pain — he sat next to him and told him it would be ok.

“That was the first time I didn’t seize for an hour,” Dean recalls. “You were always there for me after that, Sammy. It was … I dunno, easier when you were with me.”

Sam nods. He doesn’t know how much to say — Dean is not one for talking about feelings. This moment between them has already shocked the hell out of Sam.

Sam grew up knowing that Dean could fall victim to a seizure at any time but they were usually when he was tired. Unfortunately, with a father that moved around so much, Dean was tired a lot. After they’d been dropped off at Bobby’s for good, a visit to the doctor had provided the anti-seizure medicine and Dean’s affliction was held at bay for the most part. Sam never begrudged Dean the time he spent helping him recover from the convulsions. He knows Dean hated it but there was nothing else to be done.

"Dean … you’d do the same for me."

Dean won't look up so Sam kicks him elicting a low growl. "Watch it, bitch."

Sam throws his pillow at Dean. "Whatever, jerk."

Dean throws it back, harder. “Sammy, don’t push it …”

Sam snorts before tackling Dean and sending both of them crashing to the floor. Castiel walks down the stairs with a frown to see Dean and Sam wrestling fiercely on the floor.

"Idjits," Bobby grumbles as he pushes past Castiel. "C'mon, you can help me get breakfast started."

Castiel laughs when Dean's head pops up with a broad grin before he goes back to pinning Sam to the floor. He follows Bobby into the kitchen and quickly takes over — throwing the bacon onto the broiler pan to bake while he makes scrambled eggs and cheese. The smell of food pulls the Winchester brothers apart and into the kitchen. Dean's eyes widen.

"Oh my god, you _cook_?" Dean says in disbelief.

"Damn sight better than _you_ do," Bobby teases, pouring juice for each of them.

When Castiel gives Sam a plate of scrambled egg-whites and bacon that has been baked and _not_ fried in its own grease, the younger Winchester is beside himself.

"If Dean ever breaks your heart Castiel, I will marry you in a heartbeat."

Castiel chuckles. "It is good to know I have options, Sam."

"Hey! Mate sitting _right here_!" Dean complains around a mouthful of bacon.

Bobby is too busy gushing over the hashbrowns that Castiel made from scratch. Castiel sits down beside Dean with his own plate and smiles at the kiss he receives on his cheek. " _You_ are amazing, Castiel Novak."

"Winchester."

Dean looks over. "Huh?"

"Castiel Winchester." Castiel says calmly.

Dean has to swallow hard to make the eggs go past the huge lump in his throat. "Damn it, Cas ... enough with the 'moments' ... ok, then. You are amazing, Castiel _Winchester_."

Sam breaks in with a question. "Where'd you learn to cook like that, Castiel?"

"I had to pay my way as it were when I was old enough to understand my position in the pack," Castiel says.

Castiel looks up at the silence that descends. Bobby frowns. "They made you a _servant_?"

"Not as such, but cooking for my brothers was one of my 'chores'. My father went against tradition enough by not forcing me to live at the bottom of our pack. I grew up with all the comforts and advantages of being a Novak, but I never really was a member of the pack ... just sort of a hanger-on. At least that's how it felt." Castiel shrugs. "My brothers ... except for Michael ... were all protective of me. They were a shield between me and the rest of the pack but Father still had to demonstrate that he understood he had a damaged pup. In an odd way, the pack thought he was being rather beneficent by making me learn various menial chores. After all, I was going to have to make my own way eventually."

Dean stares. He had to deal with being without a pack, but it was nothing like that.

“Cas … you never _have_ to do anything you don’t want to,” Dean says softly.

Castiel smiles and nibbles on his bacon. “I know that, Dean. I want to, though … I actually enjoy cooking a great deal.”

“I, for one, am not going to argue if the boy wants to cook,” Bobby says before taking another forkful of hashbrowns.

Dean enjoys the casual laughter at that statement. He sits back in wonder that the three people he loves most are part of his _pack_. _His_ pack. Dean Winchester, alpha - Winchester Pack. He drinks his coffee, smiling over that thought.

Of course, the Winchester luck is always that the other shoe is going to drop. It does when Castiel gets a phone call from his older brother Lucifer.

* * *

“Wait … what did you say, Lucifer?” The blood drains from Castiel’s face and Dean is moving to his side. “Oh … no … do you … is there any … well, damn it, Lucifer, what the fuck _do_ you know?”

After a few more moments of listening, Castiel hangs up. He stares at the floor for a moment. “In the pack … there was a single mother … her mate died early in their marriage. She has a daughter … Claire … Lucifer said she disappeared last night … they tracked her scent out of the house but lost it by the highway."

“Cas … we don’t know that … that _they_ took her,” Dean says softly.

"Dean ... they lost the scent because whoever took her dumped ammonia at the edge of the highway," Castiel whispers.  "The newspaper article on the other two pups -- the same thing.  The trail died because they used ammonia."

"Damn," Bobby grunts.  "Same for every other pup that got taken before."

Ammonia destroys a scent trail.  It's an effective tool to use against werewolves.  Dean runs his hand over his face.  "Fuck."

"Dean ... Dean it's them ... they're back ... they came back ... Dean, they're _here_ ..."

Dean pulls Castiel against him tightly before his mate can spin off into hysteria. It is only this that keeps Dean himself from wanting to curl into a ball under the bed. “Find out where and when the search parties are being organized -- we'll help them bring her back."

Castiel nods.  He takes a deep breath and collects himself.  Castiel turns to call his brother back and then looks at Dean. “What if … Dean, what if we don’t find her in time?”

Dean’s eyes are hard. “Then we hunt this son of a bitch down and end it once and for all.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

Dean looks around the group of twenty or so weres milling in the back parking lot of the sheriff’s office.  He sees members of small local packs along with Lucifer, Balthazar and a few others from the Novak pack.  He and Castiel are representing his pack – Bobby and Sam are back at the house with Gabriel manning a sort of hub for all calls regarding the pups.  Sheriff Jody Mills was relieved when Dean offered because she is one and a deputy so there is no extra staff to help.  Bobby knows everyone in town so he can manage things. 

Outside the group stand ten men wearing t shirts proclaiming them to be FBI.  They are all human.  Jody explained that they don’t trust that weres won’t take their own justice if they find the pups and whoever took them.   Dean thinks they might be right about that.  They are giving the weres odd looks because they are all standing in just shorts.  Dean wonders if they’ve ever worked with weres before.  Jody calls for attention and asks that very question.

“Ok, listen up!  Humans – you worked with weres before?”

A man, obviously the leader, steps forward.  “We’ve all had the training – none of us is wearing silver.  We showered with unscented soap and did not apply aftershave or deodorant.”

Jody nods.  “Good … but what I asked is have you ever actually _worked_ with weres?  _Shifted_ weres?”

The man’s eyes narrow.  “No, but we are all well-aware –“

“I’m sure your training covered the scent and silver speech just fine … did it mention the taboo on touching?”  Jody asks, her expression unreadable.

The group of humans frown almost as one.  “No touching?”

A rumble of chuckles flows through the were group including Dean.  Jody is human but she grew up here and knows their ways almost as if she were a pack member herself.

“You’ll be with shifted weres … do not touch them unless _absolutely necessary_.  Human nature tends to make you want to pet – trust me, they won’t take that kindly,” Jody explains.  “They will understand you perfectly so just talk like you would to another human standing next to you.  As with all searches, you sing out if you have something.  If they find something, they’ll howl … Balthazar, give them a listen.”

Balthazar shifts and gives a howl that would tell any wolf in the vicinity that something’s been found – it’s a loud piercing sound that carries.  He shifts back and pulls his shorts back on.  The FBI agents nod.  Jody continues.

“They’ll move faster than you by virtue of more legs and better senses … let them.  Your groups will call a halt every so often to let you catch up – don’t rush because of that.  Conduct your search as if you were with humans." Jody turns and motions to Lucifer.  “Lucifer is alpha of the pack that Claire belongs to – you do know what an alpha is?”

The head man gives her a pained look.  “Yes, Sheriff Mills – is this all necessary?  We are wasting time –“

Lucifer growls low in his throat and Jody lays a calming hand on his arm.  “As I was saying … Lucifer is alpha to Claire’s pack – if we find her by some miracle, you _will_ let him accompany the team that retrieves her and you _will_ keep him in the loop on anything you find.”

“He’s a civilian, Sheriff Mills,” The agent says.

Jody sighs.  “Save me from my own kind – I don’t know who trains your teams in were-relations but they have a hell of a lot to learn.  Weres are pack creatures – you hurt one, you hurt all – and when it comes to pups they don’t differentiate between packs.  For the purposes of this search?  Lucifer is alpha over every were you see standing here – they’ll follow his orders so if _you_ want to be involved in this search, I suggest you recognize who you will be working with.”

“Sheriff Mills you are very close to hampering a federal investigation,” the agent says softly.

“I could give a fuck, honestly – I think you’re wasting more time arguing with me than learning what you need to know to make this a productive search,” Jody snarls at the agent.

“Sheriff!” A loud voice echoes across the parking lot and heads turn.  “I’ll handle it from here – _Senior_ Special Agent Victor Henriksen. “  He smiles as he shows her his badge.  “And member of the Roman pack out of New York.”

Henriksen looks at Lucifer.  “They’ll answer to me, alpha – I’ll keep you in the loop, fair?” Lucifer nods.  “Good – they know what they need to for now – let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

Dean stands next to Castiel in the line laid out for their search grid.  They space out by human arm length and then shift.  The FBI agents in their group are in the middle.  Dean isn’t thrilled that the stubborn agent – Agent Calvin Reidy – is with them but so is Henriksen.  He’s decided the agents need a human face so he won’t shift during the search unless he has to.

They all have Claire’s scent memorized and wait impatiently to start.  Dean hears Lucifer’s howl pierce the air and immediately he begins to track.  Dirt, rocks, insects … everything has a scent that is cataloged and pushed aside in Dean’s mind.  All that matters is finding the little girl – Dean would give anything to spare her what he and Castiel endured.  He hopes they find her before it’s too late.

* * *

The search doesn’t end at night – they all rest for an hour before heading back out.  Dean is stretching to limber back up before he shifts later.  Agent Reidy looks curiously at Dean.

“Where the hell did you get all those scars?” he asks bluntly.

Dean snorts.  “Wow, they really _don’t_ teach you guys much.”

Agent Henriksen walks over before Reidy can be offended.  “These two are the ones that survived Alastair and his followers before, Reidy.  Those scars are from the silver knife he used on them – silver always scars.”

Agent Reidy nods.  To Dean’s surprise, he apologizes.  “Sorry about before … guess we do need better training.”

“Maybe you’ll be the guy to do that,” Dean offers.  He can scent the guy’s sincerity so he knows he isn’t being played.

Reidy shrugs.  “Maybe – I think it’s pretty cool the way you put everything aside for the kid.”

“ _Any_ pup,” Castiel supplies as he walks up.  He hands Dean a small lunch box supplied by one of the local café’s.  Dean glances inside and smiles but then he looks up at Reidy.

“Uh, Agent Reidy … you might want to go see if they have burgers or something while we eat,” Dean says, looking at Agent Henriksen.

“I’ve seen blood before, Dean, but thanks,” Reidy says. 

Henriksen shrugs and so does Dean.  He pulls out the chunk of raw liver in the box and tears into it, blood running down his face and neck.  Castiel is doing the same as are every other were on the search party.  Reidy’s face pales and he suddenly can’t decide where to be.  Henriksen takes pity and offers to show him the boxes set aside for the humans – who have all sequestered themselves behind one of the vans out of sight of the feeding weres.  Dean and Castiel break out laughing when Reidy is out of earshot.

“His face!” Dean snorts, eyes tearing.

Balthazar walks over, working on his own piece of liver.  “Having fun tormenting the villagers?”

“Hey, he said he could handle it,” Dean snickers.  The raw protein is easier to digest while in wolf form.

Balthazar smirks. “They _all_ say that – Jody, bless her heart, is the only one eating with the rest of us.  A salad, no less - " Balthazar sighs.  “I think I could love that woman.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.  “I’ll be sure to warn her, then.”

Balthazar chuckles and playfully pushes his younger brother.  Castiel pushes back and before long they’ve shifted and started wrestling on the ground.  Dean shifts and jumps into the fray.  The other weres are shoving food in their faces and joining in.  Reidy and the other agents watch in near horror.

“Are they going to kill each other?” One of the agents asks with wide eyes.

Henriksen laughs.  He has to admit, to an untrained human the sounds of weres at play sound pretty fierce.  Tufts of fur are flying everywhere as scruffs are tugged and tails nipped.

“Nah … it’s just a way to let off steam – they’re just playing,” Agent Henriksen explains.  He wishes he could join in himself, honestly.  It’s been a long time since he was able to engage in just plain _fun_ with his pack mates.  Working with humans is restrictive that way.

Jody watches with a fond grin on her face.  They might not speak to each other on the street tomorrow, but weres united in purpose form temporary packs and within that bond comes the usual camaraderie of pack-mates.  It’s something she’s seen often enough.  The pack lines will be redrawn after all is said and done, but perhaps rival packs will regard the other with a little less animosity.

 “Ok, you lunatics, back to work!” Jody calls.

Lucifer breaks free first and gives a long undulating howl.  The humans feel the hair on their arms rise when the fight stops mid-snap and growl and they all shift back to human form.  No one says anything although the grins linger.  A few of them walk by the stunned agents bearing bite marks and scratches on their bodies. 

“God, doesn’t that _hurt_?” Agent Reidy asks.

“Sure it does,” Henriksen says.  “But it’ll heal before they're back on the grid -- again, they were just having fun.”

Henriksen manages to keep from laughing when he hears the whispers.  “ _That’s what they call fun??”_

* * *

Dean walks hand-in-hand with Castiel, seeking the comfort of physical touch.  They are both on edge with memories of huddling in small cages wondering if anyone was looking for them.  They know how Claire must be feeling – he sighs and lifts Castiel’s hand to kiss it.  Castiel looks over and smiles sadly.

“We’re doing all we can, Dean,” Castiel soothes.  “When we find her she’ll know that no one stopped looking – you remember how much that meant?”

Dean nods.  In the long aftermath of Hell, Dean had at least taken comfort in knowing that his dad had been a part of every search party he could join.  Things had gone south not long after Dean’s release from the hospital, but for that brief time, he’d known the entire pack had been looking for him.

* * *

Dean and the others take position again and the long night continues.  By sunrise, the humans are wearing out and the weres aren’t far behind.  Dean is growing dejected by the lack of discovery.  He puts his muzzle down and pauses – something isn’t right and he sends up a yip of alarm.  Every were freezes in place on their line, but Reidy continues forward a few more steps before Henriksen can stop him.  Reidy screams in pain just as a wolf howl sounding the alarm fills the air.  It’s an animal trap – Reidy’s leg is broken.  Henriksen’s radio squawks and one of the other FBI agents is yelling.

“Traps!  All along the line!”

Castiel shivers because in the background he can hear a wolf whining in pain – Balthazar.  Shifting back, Dean grabs a nearby branch and tosses it into the trap he would have walked into -- it snaps shut viciously.  Another one is in front of Castiel – they are cruel things with serrated edges.  The other weres do the same while Henriksen tries to keep Reidy conscious and calm.  Castiel notices something and curses fiercely.

“Henriksen – get on the radio – look at the traps –“ Castiel hisses.

Dean pales.  He'd smelled something off and not just the metal of the trap -- something that reminded him of the room where he'd been tortured.  He sees now what that was -- the traps are coated in colloidal silver.  Balthazar must be in agony – worse, it could get into his blood.

Henriksen is grabbing his radio.  “For the wolves injured – you’ve got to flush the wounds – do it now!”

Acknowledgements echo back and the sound of wolves in pain come over the open channel.  Castiel knows how to take the hinge pin out of the trap to release Reidy -- he does so quickly but still sucks in a pained breath when his hands come in contact with the silver. Henrickson quickly uses his water canteen to rinse them but Castiel's skin is already red and blistering.  Dean whines softly and presses a kiss against Castiel's temple while his mate holds his hands against himself.  The traps were set to catch a werewolf and to leave them unable to remove the trap without further pain.  Whoever has taken Claire, they are playing a deadly game.  For now, however, the injured weres must be tended to -- the searchers must now be rescued.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

“Dean, please stop pacing,” Castiel pleads from where he sits on the back bumper of an ambulance.

Dean growls low in his throat but stops in front of Castiel.  When he looks at his mate, Castiel can see the yellow bleeding into the normally hazel eyes.  Dean’s wolf is close to surfacing.  Castiel reaches out to run his fingers through Dean’s hair and sighs.  His hands were wrapped in gauze mittens to keep the blisters from infecting.  Dean catches his arm before he can pull it back and presses a kiss against Castiel’s wrist.

“They hurt you,” Dean says.  His voice is deep and rough with his wolf and the emotion he is feeling.

“You saved us all from being harmed more seriously, Dean,” Castiel reminds him gently.

Dean nodds absently, looking over his shoulder.  “We should check on Balthazar.”

Castiel agrees and Dean slides his arm around him.  They walk over to where EMTs are resetting and cleaning Balthazar’s wound as best they can before transporting him to the hospital.  Castiel leans over and gently nuzzles against his brother’s temple.  “I am so sorry, Balthazar.”

“Gaining new perspective on your childhood, Castiel … I should be apologizing to _you_ , little brother,” Balthazar says between short gasps.  “I had no idea … how much … this fucking … hurts!”

Castiel smiles sadly.  “I never wanted you to know.”

Balthazar nods.  His face is sheened in sweat.  Painkillers are useless – his were metabolism will just burn through it.  Castiel looks at Dean.  “He’s going to need support Dean … I’d like to stay with him.”

Dean presses a kiss to Castiel’s temple.  “Do what you gotta, Cas – but stay in touch, ok?”  He holds up his mobile.

“It’s in my pocket.  Thank you,” Castiel replies with a faint smile.

Dean kisses Castiel properly eliciting a groan from Balthazar.  “Hardly … fair … I’m trapped … here …”

Dean laughs and presses his forehead to Castiel’s.  “He’s family, Cas … trust me, I get it.  ‘Sides, you need to heal up too.”

“Dean ...”

“Go, Cas ... we're goin' back out tonight ... Henriksen got us more human agents.  We find the traps, they disarm them.” Dean says with a smile.

“Dean ... _please_ be careful,” Castiel trembles as he kisses Dean. 

“I'm coming back to you, Cas – you can count on that.”

* * *

Dean stands in his search line with Henriksen.  They proceed much more slowly – the wolves are looking for the silver scent and before long they are through the field.  Before them stands an abandoned dairy farm with dark outbuildings.  Dean and the other wolves shift.  Dean begins to shake slightly.  He remembers another barn and ---

“You gonna be able to do this, Winchester?” Henriksen asks.

Dean turns a cold gaze on the man.  “It’s a pup – she’s in there like me and Cas were – and she’s hurting like we did.  Hell yes I’m going to do this.”

A howl goes up from the far end of the line causing the humans near Dean to jump.  “What is that – another trap?”

“They have her scent – Claire’s scent,” Dean explains.

The agent – Dean doesn’t know the man’s name – steps around Dean to walk down the line. He walks in front of the line instead of behind it as he should – and he pays dearly for the mistake.  The man disappears into the ground before anyone can react.  A scream is cut horribly short.  Dean and Henriksen approach the hole cautiously but they can both smell the blood.  Peering over the edge, Dean watches the light fade from the agent’s eyes.  It’s a tiger-trap – sharpened spikes at the bottom have impaled the man.  They, like the bear traps, are coated in silver.  Any were would suffer horribly.

“Fuck!” Henriksen shouts.

A man walks out of the barn with his hands up.  Dean’s tremors grow more pronounced.  Alastair.  He looks older and thinner, but the wild, insane eyes are the same.

“Hello, Dean,” Alastair says across the grounds. His nasally wavering voice carries even now.

Dean does not respond.  Lucifer walks down to stand beside Dean.

“Give us back the pups,” Lucifer says – his voice carries as well and it has the promise of death in it.

“They have not been purified yet, hellspawn,” Alastair says.

 _Cas … Cas … I need you,_ Dean thinks. 

Weres are not telepathic but between mates there is a connection.  Dean feels it in a warm response and his trembling gradually eases.  His Castiel will always be his strength.  Dean’s gaze narrows and growls emerge along the line as another individual emerges from the barn – a woman Dean doesn’t recognize - this time carrying a small, limp form.  Claire.  Lucifer is ready to shift and throw caution to the wind. 

“What price would you pay, demon?” Alastair calls.

“We’re not here to negotiate, Alastair,” Henriksen says.  “You give us the children … or we storm your compound and take them.”

Alastair chuckles and looks pointedly at the dark hole before the line.  “You do not know what protective wards I’ve set, beast.  You wouldn’t survive – what would kill you will kill the traitors who side with you, even though they be human.”

Lucifer growls low and dangerous.  Dean puts a hand on the alpha’s shoulder, knowing he’s chancing losing his hand.  Lucifer snarls but then hangs his head.

“I don’t know what to do, Dean,” Lucifer whispers.

Dean remains silent.  The woman holding Claire stretches out her arm, holding the small girl by one wrist.  Snapping growls can be heard as the weres protest the treatment of the pup.  Dean knows they would be in the same state even if it was a human child – weres value family and children above almost anything else besides the pack. 

“What price, beast?  Would you give me what is mine … what I lost so long ago?”  Alastair’s voice grates against Dean’s hearing.

“What are you talking about?” Henriksen asks.

“That one,” Alastair points at Dean who stands straighter and swallows hard.  “He and the other were taken from me before they were properly cleansed.  I want them back.”

“He’s insane,” Lucifer breathed.

“You just now figuring that out?” Dean says softly.  “Henriksen … do it.”

“Dean, no … this isn’t a swap meet!  I’m not putting you and Castiel right back where you escaped from!”  Henriksen says angrily.

“Do you have a choice?  Claire might not be the only pup in there!” Dean hissed.

“It doesn’t matter, Dean!  We’re not capitulating –“

A high-pitched wail comes across the grounds.  Howls go up in response as the little girl cries out when the woman holding her drags a knife down her arm. 

“STOP!”  Lucifer roars.  He turns to the FBI agent.  “Henriksen, if your people cannot do anything, then mine _will.”_

Claire is crying helplessly.  Dean’s chest seems to be closing on his heart and lungs.  It’s hard to breath.  He knows how badly it hurts.  He knows how afraid she is – and in the end, he knows there is no other choice.

“Alastair!” Dean shouts.  “You want us – you got us!”

“Dean!” Henriksen snaps, grabbing his arm.

Dean jerks his arm free and continues to stare at Alastair and the woman.  “Let the pup free!”

“I don’t see the dark haired one there … oh yes, I forget.  My little traps caused him a bit of bother, didn’t they?”

Dean growls but keeps his temper.  “He’ll come … you can count on that.  But you have to give up _all_ the pups you have.”

The woman protests immediately but Alastair silences her with a look and points to the barn.  She glares at Alastair and drops Claire to the ground in front of him.  Lucifer snarls.  He looks at Dean. 

“I cannot stop you, Dean, but are you sure about Castiel …?” Lucifer says, pained.

“He’s gonna do whatever his alpha asks of him, Lucifer.  Just like I would – but it doesn’t matter either way.  There are pups in danger.  Pups who didn’t do anything wrong but be born.  This fucker does _not_ get to hurt them for that anymore.”  Dean looks at Henriksen.  “Give me your phone … I have to call Cas.”

“Dean, you can’t do this … this is the same maniac that tried to kill you and Castiel before … and he nearly _did_.”  Henriksen pleads.

“Victor, give me your phone,” Dean repeats. 

The agent growls but hands it over.  Dean calls Castiel’s mobile and can’t stop the fluttering in his stomach when he hears his mate’s voice.  “Dean?  Something is … very wrong.”

Dean rubs his hand down his face.  “It’s … it’s Alastair.  We found him.” Dean clears his throat.  “Cas … Cas he wants you and me for the pups.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Dean,” Castiel says immediately.

Dean’s heart leaps but he forces himself to stay calm.  “Cas … I don’t expect you to just –“

“Dean, you are my mate _and_ my alpha – I’ll do whatever you ask.  Besides … there are pups involved.  I would never be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try.” Castiel replies firmly. 

“This is so fucked up,” Dean mutters. 

“No … Alastair is the one ‘fucked up’.  I’m on my way, Dean.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.”

Dean hands the phone back to Victor.  Lucifer’s savage curse has them looking toward the barn again.  The woman is dragging out two more children – a boy and another girl.  They look as weak and terrified as Claire.  He looks at Victor.

“When you get them, you get those wounds flushed as soon as you can – keep the lights wherever they are dimmed,” Dean advised.  “If it was like us, the lights are on 24/7 and they are damn bright.  Talk soft and keep their family nearby … they’re gonna need them.”

Henriksen nods.  Lucifer is regarding Dean strangely.

“What, alpha?”

“Just thinking I understand now why Castiel kept hiding under the covers in the hospital.  We all thought he was afraid of us.”

Dean smiles sadly.  “No … those fucking lights … even when I closed my eyes they were there.  First night I spent in the dark was bliss.”

Lucifer shakes his head sadly.  “We … Castiel has suffered so much for our ignorance.”

“You were kids too, Lucifer.  Cas knows that.  Besides, you know he isn’t like that,” Dean says.  “He took everything your dad and your pack did to him and he came out the other side still able to love.  He makes me want to be a better man … to be more like him.”

Lucifer nods.  “He has always been … forgiving.  I just never knew how _much_ he had to forgive.”

Before long, Dean scents his mate approaching down the dirt driveway leading to the dairy.  Sam walks beside him and does not look happy.

Castiel’s hands are no longer bandaged – his were blood has already healed them.  Dean can see where the blisters scarred.  He hopes that they get out of this without too many more marks.  Castiel walks up to Dean and kisses him.  Before pulling away, he presses their foreheads together.

“I am yours and you are mine, Dean,” Castiel whispers.  “We will survive this.”

Dean holds his mate and prays to any heaven that will listen that Castiel is right.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though I don't say thank you enough for everyone who reads or comments on my writing. Your encouragement always makes my day and helps me find the inspiration to tell my tales. Much love and many hugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

The pups are safe.  Dean keeps repeating this in his head even as he faces his worst and most horrible nightmare.  The unfortunate FBI agent’s body has been retrieved and his own will take care of him.  Dean’s wolf is pacing restlessly just below the surface of his mind, growling with the fight or flight instinct. 

Alastair’s people put blindfolds on himself and Castiel.  They are taken across the grounds into the large barn.  Once inside, Dean smells rot and rust and something he really never wanted to smell again.  The copper-bright scent of blood drifts into his nose over the not-right smell of silver.  Dean hears Castiel growl near him – his gravel-rough voice deepening as his wolf tries to surface.  Their bond fairly vibrates with intense emotion – rage over the pups that have been hurt or killed; love and worry for each other; and a low buzz of fear at being in the same room with Alastair.  Instinctively they link hands – a low chuckle is heard a moment before excruciating pain tears through their frames.  Dean jerks his head away from the sour breath of Alastair near his ear.

“Tut tut wolf-boy … you know better.  I _taught_ you better,” Alastair chides.

Dean releases Castiel’s fingers reluctantly and the pain from the cattle-prod ends.  Dean hears Castiel panting near him. 

“Better,” Alastair concedes. “Now then … on to business.”

“Do you really think you’re going to get to just torture us?” Dean asks. “What’s to stop me or Cas from shifting and tearing your fucking throats out?”

“Nothing, really, dog … except that you forget how far my reach is,” Alastair hisses.

A door opens and suddenly a familiar scent assaults him – a far too familiar scent.  Alastair jerks off Dean and Castiel’s blindfolds to reveal his new captive. 

“Sammy!”

Dean lunges forward and falls to his knees in front of the limp form.  Sam has been gagged and his hands cuffed behind him.  Dean snaps the gag cord and pulls it away.  Sam sucks in deep but shaky breaths.

“De-Dean … I’m sorry … I wasn’t … wasn’t watching …” Sam stammers.

Dean tastes the salt in the thin sheen of sweat across Sam’s forehead when he presses a soft kiss there.  “It’s ok, Sammy.  Not your fault … not _ever_ your fault.”

 Sam leans heavily against Dean and shakes.  Dean frowns and leans over his brother’s shoulder to look at his hands.  A long red slit crosses both palms.  Dean growls and looks up at Alastair who smirks.

“He needed … correction,” Alastair says with a shrug. 

Dean presses his forehead to Sam’s.  “Sorry, little brother … I know that hurts like a mother.”

Sam huffs a laugh.  “Understatement, Dean.  God … I never knew …”

Castiel watches the reunion sadly.  Like Balthazar, Sam never understood the searing agony silver causes in their bodies.  Even the relatively small cuts Sam has on his palm now will scar and ache for the remainder of his days.  Balthazar and the other weres unfortunate enough to step into the traps will have pain until they die.  Considering the long lifespan of werewolves, Alastair’s torture will continue long after the man himself is dead.  It makes Castiel hate the man even more.

Alastair motions and Dean is roughly pulled away from Sam.  He does not drop his eyes when Alastair steps in front of him and studies him like he’s a curious-looking bug.  Dean’s wolf is snapping at his thoughts, wanting him to shift and end this human.

“Ah, there it is … the demon within.  I promise you, once I burn the low beast out of you, you will thank me for releasing you to know the glories of heaven,” Alastair says.

Sam listens in disbelief.  “You’re insane …”

Dean’s eyes snap to Sam in warning but it is too late.  One of the other cult members presses a rod against Sam’s neck.  Dean winces with his brother’s scream.  He looks at Alastair.

“Do what you want to me, asshole --- but not him!  Please … not him.”

Alastair smiles smugly and gestures. The screaming stops and Sam is groaning on the floor.  Dean is at his wits end.  He cannot protect two of his own pack from this madman.  Castiel, sensing Dean’s growing distress, speaks.

“Let Sam go, Alastair.  You have what you want … the two that got away,” Castiel says evenly.

“You do not dictate to me, dog.”

Dean growls at the word but doesn’t move.  Alastair smiles – Dean hates his smile.  It is very much the look of a rabid wolf – the eyes are wild and what lurks behind them is anything but sane. 

“Load them up … _all_ of them.”

Some members of the cult cuff Dean, Sam and Castiel and force them to kneel at the back bumper of a van.  Dean and Castiel were stripped prior to being taken but Sam is still clothed.  Dean leans closer to Sam, using his body as a shield and tugs hard on Sam’s shirt.  Sam, to his credit, doesn’t react but instead coughs to cover the sound of ripping fabric.  Castiel, hearing what his mate is doing, understands and eases down to feel under the bumper of the van.  He finds a sharp edge where the bumper metal has split on the underside.  He slices his fingers several times across it until he’s bleeding.  Dean hands him the torn piece and Castiel grips it in his fist tightly hoping to soak it before his body heals the cuts.  It takes two more tries to fully wet the cloth.  Castiel then forces the cloth into the split and wedges it there as tightly as he can.  His hand is healed by the time the humans finish preparing to depart. 

Dean knows it’s a long-shot but it’s all he can think of – if Castiel’s scent can stay uncontaminated, then hopefully the weres can track them.  Alastair’s followers gag and blindfold the three weres.  Inside the van, they are collared to the sides, effectively immobilizing them.  Dean feels his brother’s shoe and Castiel’s foot push against his own.  He can’t help but smile around the gag – his pack still believe in him.  They are still ready to follow him no matter what.  It’s daunting but Dean finds himself taking strength from it.  He hopes.

* * *

Henricksen stands in the empty barn and curses softly.  Sam Winchester’s absence was discovered too late.  Alastair and his followers made their departure before the other agents could zero in on the traps.  Already, they’ve managed to locate two other pit traps and a series of trip wires through one of the buildings.  Even the building they stand in has been rigged in various places with traps.  Their sky tracking lost the van because of a switch.  Henricksen curses to himself again – one of the simplest tricks and they fell for it.  The Winchester brothers and Castiel are gone. 

“Fuck,” Lucifer says, wincing at the overpowering stench of ammonia.

Alastair has covered the scent of his brother and the Winchesters.  Once on the highway the van’s scent will be lost among the scent of every other vehicle.  His eyes water from the stinging fumes as he walks out the other door across the room.  Standing far enough away to get fresh air, Lucifer inhales deeply trying to clear his lungs.  He coughs and takes another deep breath.

And his heart stops.

He inhales again and then he’s running back to the barn yelling for Henricksen.

* * *

Dean crouches as best he can against the wall of the warehouse or factory or wherever the hell Alastair has brought them.  He’s collared like Castiel and Sam, the leash far too short to allow him to kneel properly.  Their gags and blindfolds have been removed so Dean assumes this new location is remote or at least soundproofed in some way.  The lights overhead come on and they are instantly blinded.  They duck their heads and after the room is empty, Castiel speaks using the barely breathed method they used so long ago.

“Dean … can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Cas.  Sammy … don’t let ‘em hear you talk … they’ll just hurt you again,” Dean breathes.

Sam shivers but says, “Ok, Dean.”

Dean presses against the wall to help ease the tension on his legs and back.  Alastair has apparently thought of everything. The leashes are just long enough to let them crouch but not kneel.  They can't stand either.  Shifting would probably give them just enough chain to hang themselves from.   With their hands cuffed, they can't do much.  With the lights, it's next to impossible to rest.

“Just like old times, huh Cas?” Dean breathes.

Castiel exhales.  “I’m not feeling nostalgic, Dean.”

* * *

Lucifer and Gabriel are running the scent of their little brother, one on either side of the road.  Once Lucifer picked up the scent, he called Gabriel.  Bobby calls a few of the Novak pack and now that they’ve returned to the city, other wolves start appearing.  The Novak pack will follow their alpha through Hell itself to keep any more pups from being taken.  Lucifer feels pride in his wolves.  They _will_ bring the Winchesters – he includes his brother as one – home.

* * *

Alastair comes into the room and chuckles.  All three weres tense. 

“Such a perfect way to end a perfect day ... two wayward souls and a fresh one.  Blessings from on high,” Alastair sneers.

Dean watches the man's feet pass him and then Castiel.  He growls low and dangerous.  Alastair pauses and turns back to Dean, taking him by the hair and jerking his head up.  Dean winces against the light but the snarl of his mouth does not relax.

“You've forgotten your manners, abomination,” Alastair says as he draws the blade down Dean's left cheek.

Castiel hits his leash hard with a loud snarl.  “Get away from him!”

Alastair turns and slashes out with a laugh.  Castiel wears a red slice down his right cheek.  Dean roars in frustration, his wolf is too close and he'll lose control if Alastair taunts them much longer.  Stepping over to Sam, Alastair leans in close, ignoring Dean's desperate whines and growls. 

“You escaped because you were too small, dog.  But now you will taste the cleansing as your brother did ... “

Alastair is too close and Sam refuses to go down without a fight. He slams his head into Alastair’s face and relishes the crunch of broken bone he hears.  Dean lets out a despairing cry.  He is proud of his little brother but he knows this will bring Alastair’s wrath.  His fear is realized when Alastair slashes diagonally across Sam's torso.  The scream it tears out of his little brother breaks Dean's heart and snaps his control.

Dean shifts and his wolf is suddenly hanging by the shortened leash but the cuffs are off.  Pushing against the wall, Dean fights savagely to break the chain.  Alastair shouts for his followers and three men race in, cattle prods at the ready.  Dean is hit with two at the same time but his wolf is in control and it won't stop struggling to be free.  Castiel follows his mate's example and shifts, his black wolf pressing hard against the wall like Dean.  One of the men presses his shock rod into Castiel's side and a yelp of pain escapes him.

Dean's wolf surges with rage and the plate that holds the chain bolted to the wall gives way.  Suddenly, his tormentors find themselves in close proximity to a very very angry werewolf.  The one that trips doesn't get up again.  Dean lifts his head with a growl.  There is nothing human in the sound and after watching his companion die, the man torturing Castiel runs.  Dean's head snaps around to face Alastair ... blood drips from his muzzle. 

Alastair has Sam with the silver blade to his throat.  “Remember who your master is, dog ... God gave man dominion over the animals ... God gave _us_ the power of life and death over you!”

Castiel, who is still pressing against the wall, manages to pull his own leash plate free.  He shifts back with a snarl.  “You should re-read your Bible, Alastair.” 

Alastair falters as Castiel stalks forward to stand beside Dean, his hand in his mate's fur.  Castiel's eyes are in their wolf aspect still.

“Blasphemy ...” Alastair begins.

“'As for humans, God tests them so that they may see they are like the animals.  Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both:  As one dies, so dies the other.  _All_ have the same breath; humans have no advantage over the animals.'” Castiel quotes darkly.

Alastair stumbles back, releasing Sam.  Castiel's eyes never leave his as he continues to quote Scripture.  “'This is what the Lord God Almighty, the God of Israel says:  Tell this to your masters:  with My great power and outstretched arm I made the earth and its people and the animals that are on it, and I give it _to anyone I please_.'”

Alastair cringes, hearing his long-touted Word being thrown back at him.  The sudden loss of control confuses and frightens him.  He turns to run but he finds several pairs of yellow eyes staring back at him.  From the other side of the room are his followers being herded by still more lupine forms.  Alastair watches as Castiel pulls the last plate out of the wall, freeing Sam who moves to stand on the other side of his brother.  The wolves turn slightly, acknowledging Henricksen who pauses to look at all of Alastair's followers – a sadder bunch of human refuse he has never seen.

“I would suggest surrendering, all of you,” Henricksen says with a faint smile.  “Those of you that make it out the door, that is.”

Henricksen meets Dean's eyes and nods.  He walks back out into the parking lot where the human agents mill nervously.  One glances at Henricksen.

“Sir?  Are you going to let ...?”

Henricksen looks at the man who instinctively takes a step back.  His brain knows somewhere that it is near a dangerous being.  “We aren't _letting_ anything happen ... Alastair's cult has been located and all members are inside.  Those that emerge from the building will be immediately apprehended.”

“And those that _don't_ emerge?”

Henricksen regards the agent coolly.  “How long do you suppose a man who can torture children that he considers _animals_ will wait before he begins to see _human_ children as worthy sacrifices?  We have agents these fuckers crippled with damn _traps_ … so you tell me exactly how you’d like me to proceed.”

The man nods and walks away.  Henricksen waits.

* * *

“You are still beasts ... still animals and unclean,” Alastair grates. 

Castiel's chuckle has no humor.  He is done.  “'So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and when they were scattered, they became food for all the _wild animals_.'”  He steps back from Dean as does Sam.  “'And savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock.'”

At this, Dean leaps forward and his teeth close over Alastair's throat.  The silver blade sinks into Dean's side as they fall to the ground.  Castiel shifts and surges forward, closing his jaws around Alastair’s wrist.  He tears the man’s arm from his body but Alastair’s life is already pulsing out from the wound in his neck.  Dean drops him and crumples to the floor.  Sam pulls out the blade and presses his bundled up shirt to the wound.

Dean lies on his side, panting heavily.  He knows it looks bad and the pain is a white haze over his vision.  Castiel licks his mate’s muzzle, whimpering.  Dean licks Castiel weakly.  He can already feel his body fighting against the wound.  It will take longer to heal because of the silver but he will heal … he thanks God that Alastair missed anything vital. Castiel howls knowing Henricksen will understand there is need for medical attention.  Then he lies back down and puts his muzzle across Dean’s.

Focused on Dean, neither Sam nor Castiel notice the screams echoing through the building as Lucifer and his pack make short work of the remaining cult members.  None make it out the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful encouragement and enthusiasm for this story. I just never believe anyone will read my fics and then you are all so terrific when you do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

December 23, three years later . . .

Dean rolls over and grunts when he doesn't encounter the warm body that should be there.  Dean yawns and then smiles when he hears a soft humming sound.  Slipping out of bed, Dean crosses the hallway and pushes the door open.  The room is bathed in the soft light of a small lamp.  Castiel is walking in front of the window with a bundle in his arms.  He hums softly.  Looking up, Castiel smiles and Dean feels a surge of love.

“She was hungry ... you went to her last time,” Castiel says softly.

Dean rests his chin on Castiel's shoulder and looks down at the small sleeping face of his adopted daughter.  She's six months old and Dean doesn't think he's ever seen anything so beautiful in all his life.  Named Madison, the tiny pup has a head full of dark hair and quite possibly the prettiest brown eyes Dean has ever seen.  Castiel teases him constantly because he uses so many extreme descriptive words about their daughter. 

Pulling the bottle from the now sleep-slack mouth, Castiel puts Madison back in her crib.  Her little legs kick as she dreams.  Dean slides his arm around Castiel and together they go back to their room.  Castiel makes sure the monitor is on and gratefully relaxes into his mate's arms.

“She's gorgeous, Cas.  Just like her dad,” Dean whispers.

“You realize I donated no genetic material to her creation, right, Dean?” Castiel teases.

Dean kisses his mate with a chuckle.  “Cas, man, never change.”

“I ask the same of you, Dean.”

Dean smiles as Castiel kisses his way down his side, pausing to spend extra attention on the new scar given him by Alastair.  It aches daily but Dean barely notices.  He's too busy with his pack – a pack that is expanding.  Sam has mated a lovely were named Jessica – he told Dean they are pregnant but want to announce it to everyone in the pack on Christmas.  However, Dean has already told Bobby and they are busy on a crib – something Sam will be able to hand down through his line if he wants.

Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, the Novak and Winchester packs will go before the council with Madison to have her recognized.  Ellen gave them a christening gown passed down through her line and last worn by Jo. Dean was so over-wrought by the gesture he actually had to leave the room. 

Ellen and Bobby _finally_ mated after pretending like were only friends for years.  With Ellen came Jo and her – for all intents and purposes – adopted son, Ash.  Where they only had four previously, now the Winchester pack is nine with a tenth to be added to the rolls soon.  A loner wolf named Benny approached them a month ago and Sam thinks he's a good fit as does Castiel.  Of course, the fact that he's showing intent toward Balthazar is probably helping their opinions but Dean likes the man and he seems good-hearted.  He's offered to do the decorative carving on the crib and his work is beautiful from what Dean has seen.

Dean imagines they'll have to expand on their dens before long.  Were packs tend to build close to one another.  After Bobby and Ellen mated, Dean was approached by Lucifer about land currently owned by the Novaks.  Castiel was speechless that day – the land Lucifer offers is where he used to spend his childhood playing – usually alone.  Dean and Castiel oversaw the building of the main house while Ellen and Bobby built their own home.  Sam and Jess are living in the main house for now – after the pup comes, Dean has promised to help them with their first home. 

Dean sucks in a hard breath when Castiel licks a line up his cock. Through everything they've only grown closer and more passionate. Their scars no longer the focal point of their existence and they are enjoying the freedom that gives them.  The nightmares still come and go but they fade rapidly when they awaken in one another's arms. 

Dean arches his back and hisses out his mate's name as he comes.  Then he sets himself the goal of repaying the favor ... they are still awake and gently kissing when the sun peeks over the horizon and a faint cooing sound is heard over the monitor.

* * *

“Darlin', if you don't calm down you're gonna sweat yourself right outta that suit,” Benny drawls. 

Dean glares at him.  “This is my daughter's recognition ceremony ... don't you think I should be nervous?”

Castiel chuckles and Madison gurgles.  The sound of the baby's voice calms Dean instantly and he sits beside Castiel and begins making faces at the baby.

“Don't scare her, Dean,” Sam teases.

“Dude, just you wait – when you and Jess get around to it you're gonna be worse than ten den-mothers,” Dean retorts.  Sam purses his lips and rolls his eyes.  Jess smiles.

The larger Novak pack is settling in the council room and soon they'll be called in to join.  Dean hears the far door leading into the antechamber where they wait slowly open.  He looks up at a soft curse from Bobby and his heart is suddenly pounding in his chest.  Castiel looks at the stunned expression on Sam's face at well and then at the tall man standing at the door.  He has a strong frame and his hair is salt and peppered but Castiel can see the hints of both Dean and Sam in the face.

Dean steps up beside Sam and stares at the apparition of a person he thought long dead.

“D-D-Dad?” Dean stammers.

“Hello boys,” John Winchester replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued . . .


End file.
